


Compromised

by uowen



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Denial of Feelings, Enemies to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Feelings Realization, Flirting, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Literal Sleeping Together, Living Together, Love/Hate, M/M, Mutual Pining, Self-Indulgent, Sharing a Bed, Size Difference, Spies & Secret Agents, Undercover as a Couple, hongjoong can kill a man a thousand ways and im here for it, i blame wonderland era seonghwa for this fic, more humorous than dramatic spy au, so is seonghwa lmao, yeosang is an evil genius and i luv him for that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2020-12-16 18:43:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 43,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21040958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uowen/pseuds/uowen
Summary: Hongjoong is the best spy in his agency and yet he’s been forced to team up with his greatest rival Seonghwa, who is both the most notorious Raven (seducer) and risky spy he’s ever known. Together they go undercover at a couple’s resort in order to bust a drug ring and locate two missing agents, but in the end they discover more than what they bargained for.A slightly humorous enemies to lovers, spies undercover, fake couple AU.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first of all, seonghwa bias wrecking me so hard this era??? im a devoted woosan stan but omg seonghwa just swooped in and stole my heart wtf?? anyways this fic is highly self indulgent becuz seongjoong? spies? enemies to lovers? big YES. i just had to write it.

The office was lively even at 8 in the morning. It always was, and rarely ever empty on a Monday. But that was to be expected of their department. Professional, pressuring and crowded, their floor consisted of nothing but an alarming amount of offices and an unnecessary amount of coffee machines. 

Whilst thinking over this usual morning, he prevented himself from fiddling his fingers as he sat straight across his boss. Eden, as the office called him, was the reigning chief even since Hongjoong had been assigned there four years ago. His anniversary with joining the department was within three months. Sometimes he wondered how long he’d managed to survive under the sort of dangerous missions this chief had assigned him. But, he had to do what he had to do for those promotions. 

And Hongjoong was the _king_ of promotions in the office. The top agent and overall golden intelligence officer of the entire department. It was earned through hard work, rightfully so, and being there in the office was more of a reminder of it all. This meeting was most likely yet another opportunity to be promoted up, and Hongjoong was going to take that chance no matter what. 

His chief sat forward, hands clasped before him as if to address some bad news to Hongjoong. 

_Crap._ What if this wasn’t a promotion? 

“Sir,” He started, composing himself like the professional agent he was. “Is there a reason for this summon?” 

Eden looked him in the eye, studying his face before falling back in his chair. A sigh escaped his lips. “We have to wait for my other agent to arrive before we discuss matters further.” 

“Is it that serious, sir?” Hongjoong asked. 

His chief merely glanced out the office window. There was a great view of the entirety of the floor. Perfect for Eden to check on the employees who were constantly working on case files and missions. 

But this wasn’t a part of Hongjoong’s job. He was a field agent. 

“It’s not serious . . .” Eden started, and then finished with, “ . . . yet.” 

“Sir—?” Hongjoong began, but was interrupted by a sudden knocking on the office door. 

It was uncommon for others to disrupt a meeting between the chief and another agent. Maybe this was the person they were waiting for? The office was tense though, and for some reason Hongjoong had had this chill running up his spine ever since he’d stepped foot into work. His last mission had been weeks ago. Usually he was great at shaking past, possibly traumatic events off, but this time things felt different. 

“Sir, I’m so sorry I’m late—” The intruder at the door stepped into the room hurriedly, only to freeze mid-sentence when he caught Hongjoong’s eye. 

Eden hadn’t bothered to stand. “You’re late.” 

“Late?” Hongjoong stood up in his place, still grabbing onto the chair. “Why would he be late? Is—is he—?” 

The newly arrived field agent closed (slammed) the door behind him, looking as incredulous and shocked as Hongjoong felt at that moment. “Chief, is he a part of this mission too?” He sounded thoroughly upset. “No. No please don’t tell me—” 

This time Eden did stand, but only to glare at them both. “Agents can we _please_ sit down?”

# ________

There was only ever one peer Hongjoong had loathed from the beginning. And when he meant beginning, he meant days from his academy and so forth. Yes they’d known each other for long, but that only drove them deeper into a rivalry that seemed unmatched amongst their other fellow agents. 

It must have been the fact that so many of their missions had failed dramatically due to their competitiveness, or maybe it was because they always chose to work alone when it was clearly obvious how important it was to complete missions as a team—

He wasn’t sure what spurred on this type of relationship (could he even call it a ‘relationship’?), but he definitely didn’t want to delve in any deeper on the subject, much less actually work with the guy again. 

“This can’t be happening.” He groaned into his hands. 

They’d both sat down for the sake of staying employed. Eden hadn’t looked so impatient in a long time. They couldn’t risk upsetting their boss, not when a possible promotion was at stake. 

“Tell me about it.” Seonghwa complained, half-slumping in his chair. 

Park Seonghwa, by far one of the best officers in the department (below Hongjoong of course), with a flair for catching criminals and completing missions efficiently and timely. He was an admirable man, professional at his job, except for the fact that he clearly aimed to steal every golden opportunity to promote himself. In reality, Hongjoong worked just as well. Sometimes a little too well—no—_better_. 

Hongjoong’s methods stuck to the book, and he’d never tried to break any rules during a job. Seonghwa was the opposite, he was a risk taker, and above all else he used seduction to get what he wanted. It was a risky method, and one that Hongjoong would never dare use. 

They were basically complete opposites. 

“No, no, no—you are not making me partner up with someone who has an _oppa_ kink.” Hongjoong said in disbelief. 

Seonghwa looked offended, “I can’t believe you’d out me like that—oh wait, you _would_ do something like that—” He added sarcastically, “And for your information, it’s perfectly valid to have such a—” 

Eden cleared his throat, silencing them. It worked immediately. “Like I said before, I need you two to work on this mission together.” 

“But to be a _couple_?” Hongjoong said this much louder than he intended. It made him grimace at the thought. The last person he wanted was _Seonghwa_. 

“I dislike this man very much, chief.” Seonghwa stole the words right of his mouth. “Assign me someone else—Mingi, or Yunho, for example—” 

“They’re both off on another case.” Eden reminded him. 

“Why can’t they take the case afterwards?” Hongjoong half-pleaded.

Their chief rubbed his temples. “Don’t get me started on those two.” He said, in that specific voice whenever he didn't want to be argued with. “Plus, they don’t have the qualifications you two have. You’re practically the best agents for this mission.” 

Hongjoong would’ve been glowing at the compliment, had he not known his enemy was included as well. Eden wasn’t wrong. They _were_ the best agents for this specific case. Their only Achilles heel was the fact that they hated each other immensely. 

“I need your background,” The chief pointed to Hongjoong, “And I need your techniques.” He eyed Seonghwa. 

Hongjoong could only assume what Eden meant by ‘techniques’. 

“I thought Wooyoung and San were on this case two months ago?” Seonghwa said. “What have they been doing? What did they dig up?” 

At the mention of their peers, Eden’s face grew dark. They’d hit a nerve. 

Hongjoong elbowed Seonghwa on the arm. The taller threw him a glare. 

“Jung and Choi have disappeared.” Eden revealed, brows creasing together in worry. “It’s been a month now.”

“They’ve been missing for a month?!” Hongjoong questioned. 

Seonghwa shrugged. “Maybe they went rogue? Maybe they hitched—?” 

“They’ve uncovered a possible drug ring in the mountains of Norway at a resort.” Eden informed them, crossing his arms. “The last message I received was a distress signal from Jung.” His eyes fell. “Their cover was blown.” 

“So you want us to infiltrate that resort?” Seonghwa asked. 

“Exactly.” Eden answered. 

“As a fake . . . couple . . .” Hongjoong said more to himself. 

His rival got up quickly, heading for the door. “No. No way are you pairing me up with _him_.” 

Their chief spoke up before Seonghwa could exit the room, “Not even for a promotion?” 

It seemed like they shared the same interest. Because when the word _promotion_ spilled from their chief’s lips, they froze. 

“Promotion?” Hongjoong nearly whispered. 

“There has to be more than a promotion for me to be bought into this case—” Seonghwa began, but fell silent when he glanced at Hongjoong. 

Eden, surprisingly, remained patient, as if he was certain they would come to an agreement. Hongjoong didn’t like upsetting his boss, though this time it felt like they couldn’t compromise. It was impossible. 

“Wait.” Seonghwa sat back down, a little too close for Hongjoong’s comfort. He could see why the tall agent was so good at his . . . _techniques_. He was a handsome man, Hongjoong had to painfully admit. Except for the fact that he so desperately wanted to take a pair of scissors to the lock of dark black hair completely covering his left eye. “Let’s make a bet out of this, yeah?” 

“A bet?” 

“We’ll see who catches the main culprit first,” Seonghwa drew closer, “If I win, then you’ll have to start calling me _hyung_.” 

Hongjoong spluttered. This was ridiculous. But they were both competitive as fuck. “Fuck no.” 

“Then I’ll take that as an admit to defeat.” 

“If I win then I’m allowed to never acknowledge you as my elder.” Hongjoong told him, brow raised in challenge. “Deal?” 

As if enticed, Seonghwa’s eyes narrowed in response to that challenge, excited. “Deal.” He said, taking Hongjoong’s hand and shaking it once. 

Eden all the while stayed silent. 

This was completely stupid. The mission was important, therefore they couldn’t mess around with arguing over trivial things. This though, was the last straw. Hongjoong could work smoothly with anyone else in the office. Seonghwa too, was capable of doing the same. So why put them together? 

Qualifications? Techniques? Sure they were perfect, but— 

Damn. They were too perfect for this job. 

“I’ll have someone give you the case file and your plane tickets later on today.” The chief broke his train of thought. “And just a reminder—ever since Jung and Choi were compromised, the house has been entirely bugged.” 

“And that’s difficult for us because . . .?” Seonghwa bragged. Hongjoong would’ve done the same. Working in dangerous locations was like a piece of cake for them. So why was Eden reminding them of something so trivial? “We just have to find the drug leader and rescue Wooyoung and San. No big deal.” 

Smiling, their boss looked at them with mirth. There was no going back on their word now. Not with their sudden deal and definite promise of a promotion. 

“The house has been bugged,” Eden said once more, “I can’t have two more agents disappear on me. Therefore I’m going to need you two to keep up the act as a married couple 24/7, for the sake of your safety of course. ” 

_Safety_. 

More like _punishment_.

# ________

The plane was packed with people. And why hadn’t their agency dug up enough money to send them to Norway via first class? Seonghwa felt like a sardine amidst the sea of tourists on their way to their holiday destination. Was this even considered a holiday for him? Well, considering he wasn’t exactly covered in blood and bullet holes yet, he had to agree that this was more pleasant than what he’d experienced in the past few months. 

It was all good and nice. 

Except for the fact that his rival was his partner this time around. 

The exceptionally small man was sitting on his right, completely unconscious ever since he’d sat down. What spy fell asleep so easily on a mission? 

Seonghwa was already miffed over everything. Not to mention the fact that his tiny enemy was currently draped atop him, snoring softly and squishing him even more against the window. 

He was as light as a feather and still annoying. If he wanted to, he could’ve thrown the 5’7 man across the airplane to finally get the much needed legroom he ached for (his back was killing him). Another ten hours of this was practically going to kill him before the drug lords in Norway would. 

“Kim,” He didn’t bother whispering. “How can you fall asleep so easily at any given time?!” 

Hongjoong stirred in his sleep. At least he was somewhat aware of his surroundings. 

Seonghwa watched as the agent bent forward uncomfortably. Not wanting to let the man hit his head, and with the respect a human should have, he grabbed the man and let him rest atop his shoulder. Later he’d have to deal with Hongjoongs drool all over his new Chanel suit. 

“Really.” Seonghwa looked over Hongjoong’s own attire. He’d settled for a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a pullover jacket, unlike Seonghwa. It was a good idea to get comfortable on a long plane ride, but he preferred working in style. 

“May I place your bags in the compartment above?” A flight attendant arrived at his shoulder, smiling at him. 

This was a good opportunity to relax before the flight even began. He needed something to ease the growing irritation boiling inside him. 

The lady waited for his answer for a second until he replied, with a curved smirk and a raise of his brow, “No, thank you, but—” He arched a finger at her until she bent to his eye level. “Can you bring me a glass of white wine, please?” 

The flight attendant looked away, “Ah, we aren’t in the air yet. I’m afraid I can’t—” 

“Not even for me~?” Seonghwa tilted his head, eyeing the way the woman stared at him wide-eyed, until she grew flustered by his response. He continued slowly, enunciating his words, “I’m just really, _really_ thirsty.” 

The woman finally tore her gaze away from him after a solid moment to watch the other attendants on board, “I-I can probably get you something—just, wait a moment.” 

“Thank you so much.” He continued smirking as she departed swiftly. 

It wasn’t a feeling he liked. His way of working wasn’t something he was technically proud of. But being a spy meant he had to lie for a living. It was not pretty. 

“I can’t believe I got to witness such infamous flirting.” Hongjoong’s voice cut through him like a knife. Hadn’t he been asleep? 

“I thought you were asleep.” Seonghwa chose not to look at him. 

“And I thought you were supposed to be my husband.” 

He turned to see his small partner grinning knowingly, mockingly. This was karma for something Seonghwa had done in the past. Why the hell had he agreed to work with this . . . this . . . 

“Whatever.” He spat, staring at the dirty floor instead. “I need a drink.” 

“Just remember, I hate this as much as you do.” Hongjoong leaned on the other armrest, far from him as humanly possibly. 

“Good.” He said, “Let’s get a divorce before we arrive, then.”

# ________

The deal between them was—their last missions together had gone dire quickly. The Tokyo mission was the most prominent one that remained in his mind. Hanging from the Sky Tree without a parachute or support, _without_ the help of his partner because said agent was having a fist fight with the located convict—it wasn’t a pretty report to write up afterwards. Eden wasn’t happy about it one bit. 

The other mission, their first one as partners, had been a mission close to home that seemed too simple to be true. Investigating some sketchy clubs in the heart of Seoul was textbook, but in the end Seonghwa had abandoned Hongjoong to track down a gangster who had nothing to do with their case! 

_Anything to get that promotion, Kim._ The taller had remarked. 

Hongjoong was not elated about nearly compromising their cover over something so risky. Of course they got yelled at when it was done. They hadn’t died, thank goodness, not even when they’d fled their mission with a group of armed men tailing them. 

Those missions had stayed in his memories, reminding him constantly of their incompatibility. And it wasn’t like Hongjoong was the straight A student in the department. He’d broken rules as well, but not to the degree of Park Seonghwa. 

So he had to make this time count. They would be doing a simple undercover mission. They just had to discover a possible drug ring and locate their two missing agents. 

He knew Wooyoung and San to be some of the best officers. They wouldn’t go without a fight. And they were great at working together as well. 

It was promising from the start, when Hongjoong had first learned that they would be leaving on this mission. But now since they’d disappeared, he grew weary. 

It dissipated though, when he witnessed just what they were getting into. The resort was almost the size of Disneyland, except for the fact that in place of attractions, there were big, towering trees obstructing the views of cabins that sat far but clustered together on the side of a snowy mountain. 

The boat trip had taken a short amount of time, but compared to the cable car ride, time seemed to have slowed down. 

Seonghwa had tensed in his seat, eyes avoiding all windows, which was near to impossible, considering how open the car was as they descended higher and higher over the mountain. 

It was here that Hongjoong took notice of his partner’s acrophobia. He’d seen it for a split second on top of the Sky Tree back then, though Seonghwa had been too preoccupied in trying to stay alive. This time, there wasn’t anything stopping him from looking down. 

“A secret agent with a fear of heights.” Hongjoong said listlessly. 

“I’m going to need you to shut up, Kim.” Seonghwa was bent over, hands clasped tightly. 

This was the most vulnerable his partner had been, ever. It was interesting to watch, but at the same time he felt bad for not being able to do anything about it. 

Hongjoong had his own fears too. 

“We’re nearly there.” He told the man. 

Seonghwa scoffed. “What is this? Comfort?” 

“There are cameras in here, Park,” Hongjoong spoke harshly. “Let me play the part of a good husband, dammit.” 

“Well you might not have a husband within the next few minutes because I think I’m going to pass out.” The agent whisper-yelled back. 

Hongjoong exhaled, frustrated. “Fine.” He threw an arm over the man and brought him close, taking a firm grip on his shoulder to begin rubbing in small circles over his back. He couldn’t have his partner feeling nauseous. If they were to be attacked right now, they probably wouldn’t make it to the resort. Not with Seonghwa in this state. He was bad enough on the airplane. 

Seonghwa peered up at him, brows drawn together. “What the hell are you doing?” 

“I’m trying to be the better person and make you feel at ease, Park.” He said through gritted teeth. If there was someone watching them, he couldn’t allow anyone to read his lips. “Or do you want to vomit?” 

The tall agent rolled his eyes. “They say to vomit on people if you’re being held against your will.”

“I can kill you 348 ways in this single cable car.” Hongjoong retaliated. 

“Carry on.” Seonghwa finished. He couldn’t argue with _that_.

# ________

They’d arrived _finally_. After what felt like a millennia. The entire ride had made him dizzy, to the point where he couldn’t even stand once they’d touched ground. 

Seonghwa was thoroughly confused at the fact that Hongjoong was trying to _help_ him on the way there. At every given chance, Hongjoong was always aiming to lecture and expose him. Was this some sort of _you owe me_ type of thing? 

He lifted a hand up to shield away the morning sunlight but managed to catch a glimpse of the resort. To say that it was huge would be an understatement. 

A wide, curved road carved up the face of the mountain, leading to the multiple luxury cabins on either side of them. The places were huge, two, maybe even three stories, with patios and outdoor swimming pools for the summer. 

The cabins dotted the view from where he stood, and at times he could make out a few buildings that looked more like gathering halls than humble offices for the employees. 

It was sunny, but since it was the middle of dead winter there was snow everywhere, lighting up everything even more and making the landscape appear as if they’d just stepped into a christmas greeting card. 

Behind them, a large lake spread around the entirety of the mountain, which of course was a tiny, private island owned by the man who they would be investigating shortly after they dropped off their bags. 

He was relieved to find that the lake wasn’t frozen over. He hadn’t brought his best snow boots, but he _did_ know how to drive a boat. A pier sat near the edge of the water. He could even spot a dozen few boats parked, ready just in case they needed to make an escape. 

All in all it was picture perfect, and it didn’t look like the type of place where a multi-million dollar drug ring would take place. It just looked like a location where rich couples went to in order to receive therapy and de-stress. 

Those little shits had been staying there for months, without informing their agency of anything. Wooyoung and San must’ve figured something critical out. That was why they’d vanished off the face of the earth. 

He observed the location, mapping out the area in his mind. He wondered if they were still on the island, or if they’d fled on one of those boats he’d seen. 

Hongjoong pinched his arm, alerting him to something, “Pay attention.” He whispered. 

Seonghwa grabbed their suitcases, making sure to push Hongjoong as he did so. The small agent stumbled on his feet, but adjusted himself when a man in full winter gear walked up to them, smiling brightly at the newly arrived . . . _couple_. 

The new man outstretched an arm to Hongjoong, shaking his hand firmly and then taking Seonghwa’s to do the same. When he let go, he bowed deeply, “Welcome. My name is Kang Yeosang, and I’ll be taking care of you for the next few weeks.” 

Hongjoong and he both bowed back, “It’s very beautiful here,” His partner remarked, throwing one of his classic fake smiles, “We’ll be in your care.” 

“Thank you very much, sir. I’m excited to begin working with you two.” The man named Yeosang extended his hands out to the road before them. “Shall we?” 

Seonghwa nodded as Hongjoong latched onto his arm. It took all of his willpower not to throw the tiny man into the awaiting bushes to their right. They looked like some sort of poison ivy. 

Sensing his motives, Hongjoong’s hold grew tighter, until Seonghwa could no longer feel his limb. Yeosang continued directing them up the mountain as they walked upwards even more. How far could they go? How big was this damn mountain? 

He was starting to feel lightheaded again. 

“You’re Korean.” Hongjoong said this casually. 

Yeosang nodded enthusiastically, “Transferred here from Busan.” 

“So I’m guessing you’re exceptionally well in bringing couples back together.” Seonghwa stayed checking their surroundings. This was the perfect place to hide a lab. “If they scoped you out all the way from South Korea.” 

Their guide let out a small laugh, “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” 

Seonghwa couldn’t help the look of suspicion that crossed his face. Hongjoong saw this, and began speaking. 

“Great.” He said, “Can’t wait to get started.”

# ________

Kang Yeosang had already been under a thorough search on their computers, but nothing had come up. It was certain that he was simply a bystander, a certified therapist who was genuinely there to fix up Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s fake relationship. 

Also, neither Wooyoung nor San had informed them of anything sketchy surrounding the man. Even as they arrived at the scene of the crime, or in this case the cabin where their agents were last seen, the man carried on with only an angelic smile. 

Such a smile couldn’t harbor lies, right? 

“We’ve scheduled your sessions to begin tomorrow.” Yeosang unlocked the cabin door with ease and then gave the key to Hongjoong’s awaiting hands. “You’ll be working with me for the next few days on and off, but please remember that the main goal for this trip is to help you two grow even closer together.” 

He could feel Seonghwa’s radiating annoyance from where he stood. If the agent could, he would’ve rolled his eyes then and there at both Hongjoong and Yeosang. 

“If you need anything, you can use the house phone inside. My number’s in the contact list.” Yeosang added. “Now, I’m afraid I have to attend to other matters. Please forgive me.” 

The therapist bowed once again and departed, leaving them at the front entrance. When Hongjoong and Seonghwa finished bowing as well, they both sighed in unison. 

Seonghwa looked completely pissed off. He could relate. Except he didn’t want to. 

They hadn’t dwelled on the idea of actually being a fake couple much. But now that someone else had said it aloud, it was dawning on them how real this situation was. 

Truthfully, he wanted to gag. Never in a million years did he think that such a thing would happen to him. What had he done to deserve such a punishment? 

They couldn’t reveal their real feelings though, not unless they wanted their cover blown. “Might as well go inside and begin.” 

Seonghwa brushed past him harshly, making Hongjoong grab at the door for support. “I’m so close to just calling the chief up and abandoning this plan altogether—” 

The man stopped talking when he’d stepped into the living room, eyes shining. It wasn’t common for Seonghwa to be fazed by anything, but this time there was good reason. 

Hongjoong soon saw it too when he peered his head into the two story cabin. Wooyoung and San had been living in luxury before they’d disappeared. 

It was spacious. That was the exact word for it. With wooden, dark floors, marble countertops, minimalistic furniture and a giant modern chandelier that cast a soft glow. Upstairs they could see everything, literally, the walls were made of glass, revealing a master bedroom, a clear staircase and exposed metal beams. 

Outside through a sliding glass door, a bubbling jacuzzi sat invitingly, steaming against the cold, crisp winter air. And at the front of it all, a huge view of the valley stared right back at them, appearing more like a painting than something that could be considered true. 

“Holy shit.” He could hear Seonghwa say, dropping their luggage. The place was so big, the bags caused a small echo. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Hongjoong had to lean on a couch. He couldn’t fully digest the fact that this was their place for the next month. 

It was . . . the deal breaker they needed. 

When was the last time they’d both had a vacation? They were hungry over promotions, always have been, so much so that they had forgotten how to take breaks. Their previous missions too, always involved staking out and hiding in the grittiest of areas. 

Honestly, this was the vacation of his dreams. A beautiful place to stay in, to investigate an impossible case—

He only needed Seonghwa to leave. Then it would’ve been perfect. 

Blinking, the other agent awoke from his stupor, “Kim.” 

Hongjoong was still in a state of shock, “What?” 

Seonghwa pointed a finger up. It wasn’t clear what he was referring to. “One.” 

“You need to be more clear—” He complained. 

“There’s only one bed!” Seonghwa replied as quietly as he could. 

Instantly, he could feel a pool of dread flooding his stomach. 

And just like that, their wonderland had been shattered by a mere few words. Park Seonghwa, yet again, ruining _everything_.

# ________

He didn’t mind the cold. Winters in Seoul were especially chilly. He couldn’t compare that cold to anything else. He’d grown up in it. This snow was completely foreign to him. It was bitter, it bit at his skin even inside, and it smelled like the lake miles below them. 

When they’d arrived and finally unpacked, the sun had already set and a soft snowfall began to start, warning them that it was most likely too dangerous to step outside into the unknown elements. 

This was the first time he’d had a mission in Norway. The last case he vividly remembered was when they were in Tokyo. It had been Spring then, but still somehow freezing as the night had grown. 

Hongjoong was his partner at the time, and he’d successfully gotten himself into trouble when the culprit escaped via elevator to the top of the Sky Tree. 

It was a huge building, with shiny grey metal that appeared translucent at night. The only indication that they were at the very top was the occasional flash of a red light that sat on the needle. Hongjoong became a major burden when the criminal had almost thrown him over the side. Truth be told, Seonghwa could’ve handled it alone. 

Because the agent wasn’t compelled to take huge risks. He’d played it safe through everything. That was mainly how he’d gotten so high up in his ranks, but it was also the reason as to why he was still aiming for the top that seemed too far to reach. 

Seonghwa, admittedly, was similar. He wasn’t exactly an angel either. 

Slumped on the bed (the _minuscule_ bed, despite the hugeness of the house), he glimpsed his partner brushing his teeth in the bathroom. Seonghwa was already familiar with it all, living with Hongjoong and memorizing his habits. They were too perfect for this job. It was scary. 

He observed the way Hongjoong’s ashy brown hair was beginning to grow out. Soon, it would resemble a mullet. And he wasn’t _that_ tiny. Seonghwa just liked to feel tall, and Hongjoong was the ultimate target. 

“We already know how unsafe it is to check.” Hongjoong reminded him from where he stood, drying his face in a nearby towel. He was referring to the bugs placed all over the house. They trusted Eden enough to know that he was telling the truth. They couldn’t risk searching for the bugs without being found out. They would simply have to put up with this facade. 

“They’re not that important.” Seonghwa said. He took this opportunity to shed his blazer and set it down on a nearby couch. They were choosing their words carefully. They couldn’t just blurt out everything their chief had told them. 

Hongjoong leaned against the door, now in his pajamas. His wet hair was plastered to his forehead. It made him look years younger than what he was. “Then we should find a place to—” He pointed at his mouth, to say something along the lines of, _Someplace to talk about the mission without getting caught._

Seonghwa agreed, for once. “And where would that be?” 

“I was thinking the shower.” He suggested. 

“Oh, the shower,” Seonghwa muttered as he took each of his shoes off. “The shower. That sounds—wait—wait a moment there—” 

Hongjoong directed a look of impatience at him. “This is the only possible and _safe_ way to—” 

“I don’t want to hear it today.” He cut him off, laying back down on the bed to cover his eyes with his arms. He didn’t want to look at his partner. “Please don’t remind me of our situation.” 

The bed sunk, which meant that Hongjoong must’ve been sitting beside him. “Don’t take me for an idiot. I know how stupid that idea sounds.” 

He groaned, “We can do it somewhere else. The forest, for example.” 

“Too dangerous.” 

“The jacuzzi?” 

“Too many eyes.” 

“On a boat?” 

“Security cameras.” 

Seonghwa uncovered his eyes to glare at Hongjoong, but saw that the man was looking down at him tiredly. He could only assume how exhausted he looked as well. 

Still pink from the hot shower, Hongjoong grabbed the nearest blanket, wrapping himself up in it. At that moment, he didn’t look like the trained spy of ten years, an agent that could kill a man a thousand ways without breaking a sweat. The kind of person who could hack into any system while performing hand to hand combat with a professional killer. 

No—this was the first time he’d presented himself in such a vulnerable, normal state. 

It was . . . it was dangerous. 

Seonghwa cleared his throat. The fresh air of the mountain must’ve been messing with his mind. “Get some sleep, Kim, you look like you’re going to pass out.” 

Hongjoong threw the blanket at him angrily, breaking the soft image, “I can take care of myself.” 

And with that, he stopped talking for the rest of the night. 

Seonghwa took the left side of the bed and Hongjoong took the right. They hadn’t voiced this setup aloud. They didn’t need to. It was unimportant anyway. 

“You owe me a new Chanel suit, by the way.” Seonghwa said, unbuttoning his white shirt. “You drool too much when you sleep.” 

Hongjoong pulled at the covers of the bed. Silent. 

It was going to be a _long_ night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shamelessly based off of [this amazing fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6667894).  
  
*comments r dearly appreciated <3  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they’re dorks

“So how long have you two been together?” 

Hongjoong tried to stay as relaxed as he could, sitting there in the very blank therapist office located near the top of the mountain. He had to take a golf cart in order to arrive there early. It was only seven in the morning, but he found the therapist already waiting for him expectantly. The man was either a hard worker or was up to something sketchy. 

His eyes transfixed themselves to every detail of the place. As he’d anticipated, there was a single camera perched atop the farthest right side of the room, glaring at them as his therapist, Yeosang, tapped at his notebook with a pen, waiting for Hongjoong’s answer. 

It wasn’t necessarily scary, being in a room with a possible drug lord. He’d been through much worse, _seen_ much worse. To be completely honest, this man didn’t strike him, nor had he felt any warning signs emitting from this therapist. His job had developed instincts within him that no other ordinary person could acquire, with grueling mental practice. He could pick out a thief from a crowd of one thousand people with his eyes closed. This time, his eyes didn’t tell him much about _Yeosang_. 

He cleared his throat and tried for a little smile, hoping to seem like the loving husband he was to that _raven_, “Five years.” He answered. They’d practiced their lines last night. It’d been a rather painful task creating an entire backstory on their fake marriage. 

“Uh-huh,” Yeosang continued writing down whatever information he deemed fit to save this non-existent relationship. So far, he hadn’t seemed suspicious about their secret. Maybe they were better actors than he originally thought. For two people who hated each other more than anything, they were doing a hella good job. “Now, do you two have children?” 

“Children?” That was something they _hadn’t_ really thought of. “No, no not yet.” 

Yeosang studied him. The man was wearing a thick cream-colored turtleneck that partially hid his chin. The sweater paws did nothing to raise Hongjoong’s suspicions on the possibility of the young man being a drug lord. “Do you not want kids? Or is it your husband that isn’t interested?” 

“No—! No, he—” He kept their eye-contact. He couldn’t jeopardize the mission over these simple questions. “Our jobs keep us really busy at the moment.” 

“I see.” Yeosang wrote that down as well. “What do you two do for a living?” 

“We’re both in the music industry.” Hongjoong said, “That’s how we met.” 

“Nice.” The therapist smiled, “But I believe you’ve come here to . . . mend some things? It seems like you two are very job oriented, so can I jump to the conclusion and say that it’s the main source of your . . . relationship problems?” 

He nodded, “Yes.” _Right on the dot_. 

Yeosang pursed his lips, “Okay. We can help with that.” 

“Thank you.” 

“One more thing.” 

“Yes?” 

“Describe your sex life for me.” Yeosang requested. 

Hongjoong nearly choked. 

_Sex life?_

This wasn’t the first time he’d been in difficult situations. Hardly. But this took the cake. For a minute he was relieved that Seonghwa wasn’t there. He’d left the sleeping man behind to make his solo escape. Thankfully Yeosang had wanted him to have a session alone. 

It was good because that gave Seonghwa time to search the grounds whilst they kept their therapist occupied. They still hadn’t met the man who owned the resort. That was at the top of their list to complete. 

“It’s . . . it’s fine.” Hongjoong said, tugging at his shirt collar. It was warm in the room. “Just your usual . . . sex life I guess.” 

Yeosang brought his notebook back to his lap, writing something once more, “If you can, I’d like for you to describe it in more detail.” 

“That’s definitely something he could tell you in his own session.” Hongjoong responded quickly. The raven would do a better job at describing all of _that_. “But, it’s fine. I swear, we have great sex regularly.” 

“I can recommend some sex positions for you—” 

“Oh! No—no, like I said, we’re fine in that department.” _Shit_. 

“That’s very good to hear.” Yeosang sat forward, pen placed to the side. “For some, a healthy sex life is the best indicator that a relationship will work out. And from what I’ve seen of you two, I can tell how much you care for each other.” 

_No. Not possible._

“Wonderful.” Hongjoong replied, not sounding so _wonderful_ over that observation. Anyone could tell there was something off with them. “Also, I’m just curious—” 

“Yes?” 

“I know this resort is exclusive but—when I was completing research, I couldn’t find the actual owner.” His tone was casual. “This place doesn’t have Yelp so—” 

“You just want to make sure your relationship is in good hands.” Yeosang read his mind. Perfect. “I can assure you that you’re in safe hands.” 

“Ah.” Was all he said. Why the secrecy? Why couldn’t he have just named the person who owned the resort? 

Now things were getting somewhere. Finally. 

Though from the way Yeosang looked back at him, there was still nothing that set off warning signals. Was the man unaware? Then that meant this innocent individual was in the line of fire if anything went dire. 

“The weather forecast said that it might begin to snow heavily later this afternoon.” Yeosang informed him, standing up. “It’s beautiful, but for our guests and their safety, I must instruct you to stay in your cabin for the remainder of the day.” 

Hongjoong stood up too, “Do the storms get really bad here?” 

“Oh yes,” The therapist gathered his things, “Last year on the final day there was a snowstorm that kept our guests here on the island for two more weeks. No boats could come in or out.” 

This could be a lead. 

If Wooyoung and San were gone, then that could’ve meant they were simply stranded somewhere. But for decorated spies like them, it was unlikely. They were capable of surviving extreme odds. 

“No storms have shown up this year?” He asked, keeping them in mind. 

Yeosang shook his head, “No. Not that I’m aware of.” 

Hongjoong bit his lip, worried now more than ever. This was a dangerous location. An island, prone to snowstorms, with only a cable car and boats to take them back—it wasn’t ideal. He felt somewhat like a rat in a cage, prone to any outside dangers. 

And Seonghwa, of all people, just had to be his partner. 

“Well, hopefully a storm won’t come this year.”

# ________

It was fucking cold. And yes, he liked the winter, a lot, though Norway weather conditions were shaping up to be harsher than he anticipated. The snow was thick, caking his boots in frost as well, making it especially hard to walk around quietly. He’d woken up immediately after Hongjoong left, and decided that it was the signal to start scoping out the area. 

He couldn’t search the entire place. That would’ve been impossible, what with the size of the island and height. The winter air was already making it hard for him to breathe, and the elevation wasn’t helping either. They were so high up on the goddamn mountain, it took him nearly an hour to reach the bottom where the boats were docked. 

But that had given him the opportunity to talk with other couples there too. Disappointingly, they’d all checked off as either normal individuals in serious need to fix their relationships, or individuals who were solely there to let loose and simply fuck. 

No sign of a drug ring, no sign of a notorious drug leader, and definitely no sign of Wooyoung or San anywhere. Basically, the place appeared to be just a couple’s resort. 

That wasn’t fun at all, considering his dramatic repertoire. He wanted some danger, anything to distract his mind away from the burning cold that was currently eating at his fingertips. 

At one point, he _might’ve_ located a possible lead. Though he could’ve dismissed it. 

Down at the boat house there were spaces reserved for ten boats, all the same size and model. Except there was one that was empty. 

Unless someone had decided to go for a ride in the middle of dead winter, there was probably no suspicion there. _Probably_. 

He stuffed his hands in his pockets, watching the cold air collect before him as he breathed in and out, cringing away from the glare his cabin windows exuded in the afternoon sun. He’d spent the entirety of the morning investigating a location without turning up any valuable leads. Just how did Wooyoung and San manage for so long? And why hadn’t they reported anything? Seonghwa was going into everything blindly. 

Out of the corner of his eye he watched as Hongjoong walked down the side of the mountain, nose and chin stuffed into his turtle neck as his hardened face looked onto the pavement. The agent was thinking deeply, too deeply. Something was unsettling him. 

Seonghwa jogged over to him, raising a hand in the air, “Kim.” 

He’d gained his attention instantly, but it was stupid to sneak up on a spy who’s deep in thought. Seonghwa knew this, and yet he had chosen to ignore it. 

Hongjoong awoke from his daze and grabbed him by the shoulder, slamming him against the nearest tree with his other arm atop Seonghwa’s neck, crushing him with every ounce in his body. 

It was a reflex, a natural one, one that Hongjoong was impossibly good at. No one could sneak up on the man without getting hurt. Maybe Seonghwa was just a masochist for doing that. 

He choked out, “Kim—it’s _me_—” 

“Idiot,” He released his hold just a little, “I could’ve _killed_ you.” 

Seonghwa threw the small man away from him, dusting his jacket off as he did so. “Go for it. This mission is bullshit anyway.” 

Hongjoong seethed, “I _should’ve_ killed you.” 

“How about you do it inside the house where literally everyone will see, then?” 

“Or how about I just tell you what I found, Park? Or is that too hard for you?” 

Seonghwa stopped, “What? You found something?” 

Hongjoong silenced him with a finger, eyes looking as angry as ever. “Do you know how to shut up?” 

“Where else will we discuss this then?” Seonghwa glared. 

“Inside the house!” His partner whispered, grabbing his hand, “I told you, it’s dangerous outside.” 

Seonghwa couldn’t help the feeling of annoyance gathering inside him. How could such a tiny person be so infuriating? Why was it just _Hongjoong_ that was like this to him in their agency? What did he have against Seonghwa? 

He let the man drag him back up the walkway to their house, ignoring the biting cold and freezing wind, and the fact that they were holding hands—

Wait. 

What?

His eyes fell to Hongjoong’s hand, noticing how much smaller it was in comparison to his own, but still strong. This was the same hand that had almost choked him out back there on the tree. Now, it was gripping his just slightly, unaware of what it was doing. 

He glanced at Hongjoong, to see if maybe he’d noticed, but he hadn’t. This was the first time they’d touched each other without it being something violent. Was he still asleep?

“Kim.” He called out when they’d arrived at their front door. 

His partner turned, impatient, “What _now_, Park?” 

Seonghwa raised a brow. Still, the agent stayed oblivious to his actions. 

“Park, I swear—” 

He let go of their hands, “It’s nothing. Let’s go inside, it’s fucking freezing out there.” He brushed past Hongjoong, shaking away the feeling of that smooth skin. 

Hongjoong stared at him confusedly in the doorway. 

There was a reason why Seonghwa was a raven. He could tolerate holding hands with someone he didn’t like. Someone who wasn’t fully aware of what those certain actions could mean. Someone who annoyed him to no extent. 

Yeah. 

He could do this. It was his job. He could _do_ this.

# ________

He couldn’t do this. 

“You do realize we look like complete idiots.” He said. 

“They’ll just think we have a clothing kink or something,” Hongjoong brushed it off. 

Seonghwa though, was not happy about that one bit. “Hold on.” He raised a finger in the air, closing his eyes in frustration. “_Please_ don’t tell me you told our therapist that we have a clothing kink.” 

“What other kink do you want us to have?!” Hongjoong replied, equally frustrated. 

“Don’t talk to me about kinks, Kim, this is literally the wrong place and time for that.” Seonghwa leaned back, completely done. 

At the moment, they were standing in the shower, _fully_ clothed, discussing their possible leads of the day. Hongjoong had his back to the entrance door, arms crossed strictly, preventing Seonghwa from escaping. The small agent was correct about this being the safest place in the house. But it was still the stupidest idea. 

Seonghwa chose to rest on the cool tile of the wall. It felt weird wearing a full Mcqueen suit and new shoes in a shower. Even though it wasn’t the first time it’d happened on a mission— 

“There are cameras _everywhere_. The trees, the therapist office and the golf cart that took me up there.” Hongjoong inspected the light fixture above, as if it held all of the answers they were looking for. “That’s the only indication I found that could tell me this place isn’t normal.” 

“You should talk to the people here.” Seonghwa complained, “Rich and horny as fuck. I’m already _done_—” 

“And they didn’t seem suspicious?” 

“Far from it.” 

“What about the boat house?” Hongjoong was looking at him now. The same expression he’d seen time after time. Sometimes Seonghwa wanted to poke between his brows, to loosen that tension in his face. 

“One boat is missing.” And then he added, “Oh, and there are cameras there too.” 

Hongjoong exhaled, “So basically all we got today is that there are too many cameras watching the guests, and that one boat is missing.” 

They both grew quiet as they thought of this. 

It was as if someone out there was messing with them. This facade over the entire place was doing a good job at fooling them both. Normally, they’d have already found out something vital by now. But no—just when they _had_ to be a couple, things were being prolonged longer than usual. 

Seonghwa couldn’t help the sigh that escaped his lips. “Then? What are we doing now? Shouldn’t we be investigating outside?” 

“Unless you want to turn into a popsicle, I don’t suggest going outside tonight.” He recommended. “That’s another thing. Apparently the snowstorms here get bad.” 

“Could Wooyoung and San have—?” 

“It’s possible. Though I’d like to keep my faith in their abilities.” Hongjoong said assuredly, thoughts running a mile a minute. “They’re safe, somewhere. I just know it. I can _feel_ it.” 

Seonghwa didn’t know what to say to that. 

It was known in the office how much Hongjoong cared for the younger agents. Maybe that was why he was so much harsher towards Seonghwa. Seonghwa was the only field agent older than Hongjoong. 

He studied the man. His attire had stayed the same as when he was on the airplane. Though this time in place of sweatpants, he wore jeans. And instead of a messy head of hair, a beret sat on top of his head, tucking his ears in away from the cold. 

Hongjoong caught him staring and asked, “What?” 

“ . . . nothing.” 

“Do you not think they’re alive?” 

“Those brats? Of course they’re alive.” 

“Then where the hell are they?” Hongjoong said this more to himself. If there was room, he would pace and return to his deep thoughts. But this was a compact space. No room to move around. 

“Let’s just worry about our own struggles right now, yeah?” In certain cases, being the hero wasn’t the best choice. Hongjoong needed to know that. 

The man rolled his eyes, “I’m just thinking about our partners.” 

“And I’m only afraid that you’ll think too much of them and forget me!” He tried not to yell. _Tried_. 

“I’m _not_.” 

“You also left me this morning without any warning.” Seonghwa added, just to argue. “This isn’t a solo mission, Kim. I thought you knew that.” 

“I thought that this whole thing was a bet for you.” Hongjoong fought back, taking a step forward. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not thrilled by the idea of calling you _hyung_ for the rest of my career.” 

“I’m not thrilled to have you as a husband.” Seonghwa stepped up as well. 

“Who _isn’t_?” Hongjoong grabbed his tie, bringing Seonghwa close in order to scowl at him. 

He could see the lines in Hongjoong’s face clearer, closer. There was that familiar scar he’d gotten in a mission two years ago, and that smaller scar on the end of his right eyebrow from a fight. (Seonghwa had given him that one). 

This proximity didn’t only help him see Hongjoong for the first time ever. No, it was also a reminder of how distant they were, even as partners. 

They’d known each other for years, and yet Seonghwa had never managed to figure him out. If that made any sense. Hongjoong was the one whom he could never seduce. To be fair, Seonghwa hadn’t tried, nor had he ever considered doing it. But now that they were there, it’d crossed his mind that he’d never thought of seeing Hongjoong in that light. 

Now as fake husbands though, that was all he _could_ think of, in order to survive. 

But that was another problem. The first problem he had to deal with was the fact that if Seonghwa tried to play the role of a good husband, he would most likely be killed by none other than Hongjoong himself. 

The man was the top agent in regards to physical strength, not to mention how flexible he was too. Along with Yunho, San, and their new recruit Jongho—Hongjoong was the best in terms of fighting. 

Seonghwa could not afford to have a bloody face. He was a raven, for goodness sake. 

So it was a surprise when Hongjoong let go of his tie to return to his position against the shower door. They’d been arguing this entire time. He must’ve felt tired from it all. Seonghwa sure as hell was. 

“How about this,” Hongjoong said after a moment in quiet. “We argue a lot, right? Our therapist isn’t going to leave us alone unless we play the perfect couple.” 

“So . . .?” Seonghwa shrugged, “What do you propose we do? Do we _not_ fight?” 

“It’s only possible if we both shut up before we actually do argue.” Hongjoong tried to make Seonghwa understand what he was getting at, but failed. “Do you realize what I’m saying?” 

“You just want the impossible.” He answered. “And I don’t know how you’re going to do that.” 

“We need to do something—like, to prevent ourselves from having these outbursts—” His partner appeared pained at his words. It would’ve been better if he’d just said what he wanted to say out loud already. “Like, if we . . . if we _kiss_—or—” 

Seonghwa faltered where he stood, somewhat taken aback. 

_Oh_. 

It wasn’t the sort of thing he expected to hear from him. It definitely wasn’t what he wanted to do. 

Hongjoong refused to meet his gaze, “I _know_. Stupid, but—” 

_All of your ideas are stupid, Kim_. 

“It’s not . . . such a _bad_ idea . . .” 

“It would look weird if we didn’t kiss at least once—” Hongjoong stopped when he registered what Seonghwa had said. “Hold up—what?” 

“I said that it’s not a bad idea.” Seonghwa was used to this. This was his job. Kiss people he didn’t like. Make love to people he didn’t like. “But wouldn’t it be even weirder to them if we didn’t have sex?” 

Hongjoong froze. 

_Oh no_. 

“I’m not having sex with you.” Hongjoong said with finality. 

“Look, with my whole heart I’d rather have sex with anyone else. Not _you_. But for the mission—” 

The smaller man reached out to him. And for a second, Seonghwa had thought that maybe Hongjoong was going to kiss him. 

He was wrong. 

Hongjoong took the shower controls and turned the cold lever all the way up, leaving the shower quickly and stomping away as Seonghwa stared after him in disbelief. 

His hair was thoroughly soaked, as well as his new suit and shoes, which were filled with water at that point. 

He made no indication of wanting to move. The cool shower was the only thing preventing himself from officially blowing up over the childish man that was Kim Hongjoong. 

And all because he didn’t want to have sex with Seonghwa? 

This was a first. Literally. Hongjoong was the only person who’d ever dared to do that. So did that mean his raven card needed to be revoked? But then again, he hadn’t technically seduced him in any way—

He ran his hands through his now soaked hair, staring at himself in the mirror across from him. 

This had to be a dream—no, a _nightmare_.

# ________

Kissing wasn’t exactly a bad idea. Far from it. But the way he handled it could’ve been better. Suggesting sex when they were merely at the beginnings of this fake relationship wasn’t entirely a great start. Seonghwa should have known that. 

He also should’ve known not to say how much he didn’t _want_ to have sex with Hongjoong. It’s not like Seonghwa meant it’d be _bad_. Hongjoong was an attractive man and anyone would want to have him as a partner but—that wasn’t the point of what he was trying to say! 

Seonghwa had to at least give his apologies to the small agent. He’d been insensitive and too quick to jump into such a topic with someone who clearly hated him. 

This was what Seonghwa repeatedly told himself as he headed downstairs into the kitchen where he’d heard movement. He figured that apologizing to Hongjoong would be a good start. He wouldn’t talk of sex again until Hongjoong was ready for that. 

By bringing up ‘kissing’, that probably indicated his partner was willing to start. Seonghwa just had to ruin it. Well, not this time. This time, for the first time in all the years they’d known one another, _he_ would say sorry. No matter how much he disliked Hongjoong. 

In his _new_ attire, a simple button up white shirt and black slacks (with his shoes drying on the porch), he brushed his wet hair back and tried not to appear angry. 

The tension they created was undeniable. This Scorpio/Aries energy was bound to be chaotic from the start. He just hadn’t known if that chaos would eventually turn into something messy or something interesting. 

He hoped for the latter. 

Rounding the staircase, he strolled over to the kitchen, where, Hongjoong was digging through the fridge. No doubt looking for anything to eat. 

Unsurprisingly, the cabinets and refrigerator had been packed with more food and drinks than they could possibly eat in the span of three months. Not to say that they planned to stay for that long. In reality, this mission was probably going to take them only a week or two. Any longer, and it could’ve been too dangerous for them. 

“Kim,” Seonghwa grabbed the top of the fridge to lean against it, stuffing his hand into his pant pocket whilst he looked at Hongjoong from his advantageous height. 

Hongjoong, ignoring him, chose to keep his attention to the items in the fridge. “I’m not making you dinner, Park.” 

“So we’re going to skip dinner and just go straight to kissing?” Seonghwa regarded, “Not my usual style but—if that’s what you want . . .” 

Hongjoong closed the fridge with a snap, nearly crushing Seonghwa’s hand, “If you’re making fun of me, I swear I’ll—” 

“I’d rather skip the violent threat for a simple kissing session.” He half-pleaded. The possibility of having a fight didn’t sound so great in the midst of an ongoing drug ring. “Both are equally painful to experience.” 

Glowering, the smaller man glanced cautiously around, keeping in mind the possible hidden cameras and microphones located throughout various parts of the house. The kitchen was no exception. They had to be careful with their words. And Seonghwa did _not_ want to go back in the shower with a man who could easily snap his neck in two. But, he wouldn’t _mind_ it, necessarily— 

“Here?” Hongjoong sounded deadly serious. 

That was the good thing about him. The man didn’t care if a mission required him to swim in the sewers or jump off a building without a parachute. He took things very, _very_ seriously and without any emotions to sway him. 

That, in Seonghwa’s books, was what made a good agent. 

Now if only Hongjoong could take a little more risks. Though he was already impressed with the fact that his partner had suggested kissing. Seonghwa could finally witness the unmovable, unswayed top agent crack just the tiniest bit, to catch a glimpse of the perfect man being relatable, for once. 

“I prefer the bed,” Seonghwa replied, “But I’ve found the kitchen table works equally well sometimes.” 

“I don’t understand why anyone would want that.” Hongjoong said, clearly disgusted with that image. 

Seonghwa could agree, “People have different tastes.” 

Hongjoong stared at the wide kitchen table, but then brought his attention back to the fridge. There wasn’t anything on his face that revealed much, sadly. Seonghwa _loved_ reading people. That was what he was good at. Hongjoong though, was calm. 

His shoulders were relaxed, comfortable now that he’d changed into his pajamas. A weathered shirt from their academy days, along with a pair of jogging pants and the familiar wet hair matted on his forehead after a quick shower. 

Hongjoong didn’t bother brushing a few loose strands from falling into his eyes. It took most of Seonghwa’s strength not to reach over and pull all of his hair back with a rubber band so that he could look into his eyes more easily. 

“I’m not calling you _hyung_ ever.” Hongjoong said, which roughly translated to, _I’m kissing you only so that we can move forward in this mission with ease, which of course will give me the best chance to win this bet._

“You don’t believe I’m capable of _making_ you say it?” Seonghwa asked, which roughly translated to, _Okay, I’m going to try my hardest to win because, out of everyone in the office, I want you to call me hyung._

Hongjoong, for the first time in an extremely long time, laughed. It wasn’t a pleasant laugh, more of like a scoff, actually, “You think you can make me say it? Do you know who I am?” 

Seonghwa took this chance to slowly corner Hongjoong against the edge of the kitchen counter, hands splayed over the smooth marble finish on either side of the smaller man’s waist. Leaning in, he saw the scars on Hongjoong’s face for the second time. This was as close as they’d ever been. 

“Do you know who _I_ am?” Seonghwa reminded him lowly. “Do you know my specialty, Kim? Do you know what I’m _good_ at?” 

Hongjoong’s face stayed stone-like, emotionless. “Those tricks aren’t going to work on me.” 

“They need to, if you want to succeed.” Seonghwa pressed his knee to the low cabinet, causing Hongjoong to shift. 

“I may be playing the game, but I’m sure you know that’s all I’m doing.” Hongjoong responded by putting a hand to Seonghwa’s stomach, halting him. _I’m acting just as much as you are, Park_, He mouthed silently. 

It was convenient that Seonghwa could read lips, “Didn’t expect anything less.” 

“Good.” 

They continued fighting quietly, glaring until they couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Do you want me to do it, then?” Seonghwa offered. 

Hongjoong pushed him off, walking away. “I’d rather not.” 

Seonghwa watched his partner’s back. This hadn’t happened to him in a while. Someone rejecting a kiss? What else did he have to do to convince Hongjoong? 

_Not_ that he wanted to kiss him. No. Never, but, for the mission— 

Tiredly, and before Hongjoong could ditch him, Seonghwa unbuttoned his cufflinks and rolled his sleeves up. And then proceeded to unbutton the collar of his shirt, to breathe in this tense atmosphere. 

“Kim.” He called. 

Hongjoong didn’t turn around, “What?” 

Seonghwa took his arm and pulled him close, too rough for his taste, but he had to get the man’s attention in some way. 

“Kiss me.” He ordered, keeping his hands on Hongjoong’s wrists. 

“No.” 

“Why?” 

The spy released himself from that tight hold, “_You_ kiss _me_.” 

It must’ve been code for something. Like, _I’ll die before I make the first move on you, Park._

It must have been something like that. 

But Seonghwa couldn’t care less. He had a job to do. 

Harshly, he took a fistful of Hongjoong’s shirt and slipped another hand to the curve of the man’s jaw, trailing past the wet strands of hair that kept his neck damp with water. 

Hongjoong cautiously dug his fingers into Seonghwa’s chest, not forcing him to go away, but at the same time not wanting to come any closer. What came as a shock, however, was when the younger closed his eyes, giving in. 

Seonghwa eyed the prominent vein on Hongjoong’s neck, pausing for a minute to examine the dripping wet skin. 

Was this . . .? 

Was this happening? 

_I guess this is happening_, he thought defeatedly, as he dipped in to trace it with his tongue, feeling the relaxed pulse vibrate with life beneath him.

Hongjoong tasted warm. If that could even be considered a taste? Whether it was the shower that made him hot under Seonghwa's mouth, or if it was just out of embarrassment, he didn't know. But he did grow aware of the way the man knocked his head on his, lips sealed and mustering up his strength to not respond to what Seonghwa was doing. Damn him. 

Closing his eyes, he imagined that this wasn’t his partner. He imagined it wasn’t Hongjoong whose cold fingers were clinging to his opened shirt buttons. He imagined it was someone else when he dug his nose into the crevice of that neck, biting at the softest parts of skin he could find, to leave marks there he could see in the morning. 

His hand unconsciously moved lower, feeling the dip where Hongjoong’s waist was, and then onto the bumps of his spine, staying there to drag his palm over the man’s slim hips. 

Hongjoong stiffened when Seonghwa grazed his teeth across the center of his throat, breath ghosting over and around his ear before he began to bite softly on the same spot he’d found previously. 

Seonghwa’s voice was breathy, he couldn’t help it. It was a natural occurrence, but Hongjoong kept his mouth shut by biting down on his lips as Seonghwa tried to pry any sort of pleasurable reaction. 

Hesitantly, he brought his hands beneath Hongjoong’s shirt, pressing his equally icy fingers to the warm expanse of skin. Up his smooth sides and down into the waistband of his jogging pants, Seonghwa reached inside to flick a thumb over Hongjoong’s boxers, playing at the idea of touching _more_. He was so close to bringing their hips together, to take advantage of this seemingly innocent start and quicken the pace already but—

Obviously, his partner felt that, and squirmed in his hold, curling in on himself as his head fell forward onto Seonghwa’s shoulder. 

He waited, to see if Hongjoong would object to anything more, but then let go of the man’s jaw to wrap his other arm around him. He fit impeccably in his embrace. The _only_ time Seonghwa wouldn't tease him about his height. “Kim . . .” 

Hongjoong didn’t respond. Seonghwa couldn’t see his face. He wanted to, to see if maybe his partner had grown to hate him more. 

“Kim . . .” He repeated, “You didn’t say anything about biting, so . . .” _I spared you from experiencing my kiss, for now._

The wetness of the man’s hair was beginning to grow unpleasant. His shoulder was cold and his new shirt was in need of yet another wash. They really should’ve just done this on the bed where it was warm. There, he could’ve taken off his clothes. 

The younger suddenly brought a fist to the air and punched Seonghwa square in the chest, leaving him breathless. It wasn’t the reaction he wanted. He’d been slapped, kicked and cussed out but never punched by a lover. _Not_ that Hongjoong was anything like that to him. _Nope_. 

Hongjoong raised his other hand to throw another punch at him but Seonghwa stopped him in time. “Kim—! What the _fuck_—?” 

“I was ready for a kiss but you didn’t give it to me!” 

Seonghwa was at a loss for words. “I was sparing you the punishment!” 

“How are we supposed to have sex if you don’t keep your word!” 

“I thought you _didn’t_ want to have sex?!” 

“It’s important for our plan!” 

“Then you should’ve just kissed me! Why did you wait for me to kiss you?!” 

“I thought _you_ were the one in charge of seducing!” 

“Do I have to initiate everything around here?!” 

Hongjoong parted his reddened, bitten lips, to answer, to say _anything_. But the look of disappointment on his face was enough to tell him that Seonghwa had fucked up again. 

“I’m done for today.” Hongjoong let go of him to retreat. “I can’t do this right now.” 

Seonghwa sat on the counter for support, rubbing at the spot where his partner had punched him. “Does it matter? We’re sleeping on the same bed!” He called out to Hongjoong, who, was avoiding all eye contact as he ascended up the clear staircase in a hurry. “Especially after what we just did!” 

He kicked the ground, cursing. This wasn’t what he’d had in mind at all. He hadn’t even had the chance to apologize. Now though, now it was out of the question. 

What the _hell_? First the man didn’t want to kiss and have sex, but then he went ahead and punched Seonghwa for not doing exactly that? How could Seonghwa ever please him? 

It was impossible at that point, wasn’t it? And he was a _raven_, dammit.

“_Fuck_.” He slammed his hands on the marble counter, making an echo. 

How the hell were they going to do this? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *i'm so sorry for the update delay T_T my computer broke but i got another one, thank goodness!! T_T i thought it was gonna be months till the next chapter but now im back on track~ :D
> 
> *comments r dearly appreciated <3  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp......

_San_

_Where’s San?_

It was completely dark. Well, he was blindfolded, so he didn’t know where he was exactly. All he could make out was the occasional dripping of water coming from some indiscernible source. He’d been there for days now, drifting in and out of consciousness because of that drug those people kept injecting in him ever since he’d been compromised. 

He searched around the room blindly, but found that his arms were already elevated, strapped in chains that dug into his skin as he tried to extend farther out, to feel anything. He felt weak, well that was to be expected. What he hadn’t anticipated though, was the fact that they would separate them. He was somewhere. It was cold, he could feel that, and quiet. So, maybe he was underground? 

He had to find a way out. But first, the chains were going to be the biggest problem. His legs and feet were strapped to the concrete floor, as well as his neck and waist. He knew how to pick locks, but having to pick more than one was going to be an issue. 

Then there was another problem. If they’d kept them separated, then there must’ve been a reason. Interrogation? Torture? 

_San._

Wooyoung shut his eyes tightly, seeing stars. Although he was in pain, he couldn’t help but think back to what went wrong. He couldn’t dwell on the past, or what he should’ve done. It wasn’t San’s fault that this had happened. That was why Wooyoung was so guilty. They should’ve just left back then. They should’ve ran away. 

He didn’t want to imagine what they were doing to his partner. Even though San was the best in combat at their agency, it still didn’t seem like enough when he remembered how big this drug ring was. Wooyoung had underestimated his tactics. Now, now they were possibly not going to see each other again. 

Painfully, he let himself fall to his knees, even if that meant having the rusty handcuffs dig into his already frostbitten wrists. “San . . .” 

He couldn’t give up now. They’d barely just started, they had barely just admitted their feelings to each other and now—and now this had to happen. 

When they’d been given the assignment a few months ago, it was all supposed to go swiftly. They would be a fake couple, they would bust the drug ring and find the leader. But in the end they got more than what they bargained for. 

And it _was_ his fault. If it wasn’t for his big heart and trusting attitude, he would’ve had the drug lord in custody. It was messy, but he had to do everything he could to fix that. 

He also had to find San. 

That was his first priority. Get out of those chains and find San. He wouldn’t leave the island without him. That was his resolution. It was all or nothing. 

He had to do it before Eden sent any more agents to the island. He couldn’t have Yunho and Mingi risking their lives for a mistake _he_ did. Though, weren’t they currently away on another mission? Their chief surely wouldn’t pull them out in order to save San and he, right? 

Because then that would mean sending the next best field agents, Seonghwa and Hongjoong. Wooyoung had the utmost faith in them but—they wouldn’t work. 

That gave him peace of mind. It was Wooyoung’s duty to get them both out of there. He just had to begin. 

With ease, he twisted his arm, to test the strength of the metal chains. They weren’t flimsy, in fact, they must’ve been purposely made to keep someone of his strength bound. It wasn’t impossible, though. He’d been through much worse in the past. 

He tested the other one, but stopped when he heard movement. 

The person who’d appeared knew how to be quiet. They _wanted_ to be heard. They weren’t stupid. Far from it. They were smart enough to capture Wooyoung and San. 

Silence ensued for a few seconds, until Wooyoung shattered them by bringing himself forward, “I know you’re there.” 

Feet shuffled, “I wanted to check up on you.” 

He registered how calm that voice was. It was as if they were talking casually, as if Wooyoung wasn’t chained up from his ankles to his wrists, “You can release us, like you promised me in the beginning.” 

“That’s not what I came here to talk about—” 

“Where’s San?” Wooyoung cut through his words. “Where is he? What did you _do_ to him?” 

It was in that moment when the individual before him took the edge of his blindfold and untied it, revealing the pleasant face of his captor. 

“He’s fine.” 

“Yeosang, I _swear_ if anything happened to him—” 

Yeosang silenced him, “He’s strong, Wooyoung. Five of my best men couldn’t even bring him down.” 

“Just, please tell me he’s safe.” 

“He’s safe.” 

Wooyoung exhaled shakily. He didn't believe him, but he had to be positive. They weren’t dead, yet. 

His old friend walked around the darkened room. It was a simple space, made entirely of concrete, as he’d guessed, with no windows and no visible doors. They had to be underground. During his stay at the resort, there were no other buildings that could house such a place. 

“I’m letting you two go when I’m done with this last shipment. That’s why I captured you, Wooyoung.” Yeosang informed him, “I can’t have you two in the same room. You’d escape.” 

“But you promised—” 

“I’m sorry, Woo. I have to keep you and your partner away from my plans.” And then he added, “As your old friend, I’ll keep my word.” 

Wooyoung faltered when he said that. It was true that they’d known each other for years. Yeosang had trained with him in the same academy. Back then, he was a promising agent, until he realized that he held a lot more potential than most. Yeosang was too smart to be a spy. 

“I’ll keep you out of this, only if you keep San safe.” Wooyoung had said this weeks ago, when he found that it was Yeosang who owned the resort. It wasn’t much of a surprise. When he’d heard the word _drug ring_, he automatically thought of the only person who held enough connections to create such a large business. 

“That’s been our deal since the beginning.” Yeosang said, “It won’t change, Woo. I still trust you, even now. I only hope that you’ll trust me.” 

Wooyoung looked at Yeosang then, taking in the appearance of the man he’d been friends with for such a long, long time. Just how much had he helped Yeosang escape custody before? Too many times to count. They were, in a way, partners. Earlier, he’d been so determined to turn him into the authorities, but he had to remember just who it was he was dealing with. Yeosang was one of his best friends. He couldn’t simply abandon him. 

Yeosang _had_ to be telling the truth. Otherwise, what could Wooyoung do? 

_San_. 

_He has to be safe._

_He needs to be safe—_

“I trust you, Yeosangie.”

# ________

If Hongjoong couldn’t get anything out of the man, then it was Seonghwa’s duty to find any clues as to the whereabouts of their missing partners, and of course the drug ring. How hard could it be? Hongjoong had talked to the therapist for over an hour yesterday, and still the man hadn’t revealed anything suspicious about himself. 

For some reason, it didn’t sit right with Seonghwa. And maybe it was his experience as a raven but—innocent faces were much harder to trust than anything else. He didn’t trust Yeosang. He trusted Hongjoong, yes, though even a top agent could be fooled. 

Suspicious, he checked the room that Hongjoong had inspected previously. Like he’d said, there was a camera located on the ceiling, but other than that, nothing else sent warning signals. He didn’t sense danger, and neither did he feel danger coming from the therapist. 

Seonghwa sat back on the comfortable couch available for patients. Besides the couch, a single desk and chair sat in front of him, currently occupied by the therapist who was interrogating him with marriage questions. 

An hour had passed already. His session was almost up. So far he’d been asked about his career, his sex life, and now it looked like the man was about to wrap things up. 

Yeosang twirled a pen in his hand aimlessly, “Before we go, I’d like to ask you one more question.” 

Seonghwa sent him an artificial smile, hoping to appear charming, “Actually, I wanted to ask _you_ a question. If that’s okay.” 

The therapist lifted a brow, “And what is that question?” 

“You’re an experienced marriage counselor but—” Seonghwa sat closer, leg inches away from the man, “I was interested to know if _you’re_ married.” 

Yeosang kept his brow raised, seemingly unimpressed. “I’m not.” And then he said, for good measure, “We should be talking about _your_ marriage.” 

Seonghwa stopped trying to find ways to flirt with the man. It didn’t seem like a good idea to go along with it anyway. He had to play the role of a devoted husband. Also, Yeosang had appeared unfazed by any advances. 

The man scribbled something in his notebook. Being a spy meant that Seonghwa could read handwriting upside down. At the moment, Yeosang had just written _playboy_ into the chapter specifically addressed for Seonghwa. He couldn’t complain about it. It was partly true. Partly. 

“Now, can I ask you that question?” Yeosang asked. 

Seonghwa sighed in response, “Go for it.” 

“I see that you two don’t wear wedding rings, despite being married for five years,” The therapist observed, “Is there a reason as to why you don’t wear it?” 

_Fuck_. 

Their agency wasn’t a theatre where he could pick out his own costume. Obviously, they hadn’t had time to buy rings, nor to discuss them. Plenty of married people lived without needing rings or binding agreements. But, that was what _he_ thought. He’d never asked Hongjoong how he felt about it. 

He cleared his throat, considering this. “Well, we—we never got around to really getting them.” 

“Is it because your husband doesn’t want one?” Yeosang wrote this down. 

Seonghwa hated having it all documented, “No, I . . . actually don’t know if he wants one.” 

“You’ve never discussed this?” 

“We never had to before.” He answered. 

Yeosang nodded, “It’s not important to have rings,” He closed the notebook for now, “But giving gifts, luxurious or not, is a great way to show your love to someone.” 

The man had said it so sincerely, Seonghwa had to pause. He was still suspicious of him, yes, but a small part of him wanted to believe that this was actually just a normal therapist. He certainly acted the part very well. 

Seonghwa tugged at his collar, suddenly uncomfortable by the mention of gifts and rings. He’d gotten gifts for people before. It was common in his line of work. 

But for _Hongjoong_? 

“I guess I’ll just buy us rings when we get back home, then.” He lied. 

He never thought that it would come down to this. This simple mission was turning out to be more difficult than he planned. Last night wasn’t any help. He really didn’t deserve that punch from Hongjoong— 

“Or you could visit the shops here.” Yeosang said, “It _is_ a couple’s resort. We do have rings available.” 

_Seriously?_

_Why was everything so conveniently placed for him? He didn’t want to buy wedding rings!_

Seonghwa wanted to roll his eyes. Thankfully, he held enough patience to flash him another smile. “ . . . great.” He drew out the word, feeling pained. 

Not _great_. 

3 days in and he was already buying Hongjoong a ring. 

This wasn’t what he signed up for. But—technically it was? Damn, the moment he agreed to be Hongjoong’s fake husband, he promised to finish this mission as a winner. Wedding ring or not, Hongjoong would call him _hyung_ eventually. 

Even if that meant having to buy him something he didn’t want or need. Seonghwa would do anything for his rival to lose. It was a ring. It didn't mean anything anyway. He had better stuff to worry about, like, the mission, or the possible drugs located on the island. 

“I guess we'll leave it at that.” Yeosang said, standing up to leave. "I wish you luck in your search." 

Seonghwa didn’t move. He was still somewhat miffed over everything. Despite what he said, he couldn't stop thinking about it. 

A ring. 

A _wedding_ ring. 

“Yeah . . . thanks.”

# ________

Okay, he had no idea what he was doing or why he was doing it. 

First off, there _was_ a jewelry store on site, much to his annoyance. He couldn’t escape it, huh? This was a thing he was going to do now. Buy Hongjoong a . . . wedding ring. 

Second, he had no clue what to buy him. The store was huge, with lines of glass display cases covering the entirety of the place. Surprisingly, a crowd was present, couples and individuals on their own hungrily scouring the shop for the best piece of jewelry they could find. 

He’d known the resort was gaudy, but seeing the quality of the shops further raised his growing dislike. It wasn’t cheap to stay there. He could tell just by looking at the people who were currently shopping. 

That could mean a number of things. One, especially, could be that these guests held enough money to buy drugs that no other person could easily purchase. 

And judging by the prices of these rings—

He peered down to catch a glimpse at one, very thin band that looked too small for both he and Hongjoong. Immediately, his eyes widened when they fell on the price tag. 

“1,000.” He said to himself, nearly cursing at the number. 

Seonghwa wasn’t cheap, _at all_, but when he thought about purchasing a ring for Hongjoong, he hadn’t thought it would mean digging a huge hole in his wallet. His agency paid him well, _too_ well, considering his job description—though this was slightly scaring him. 

He moved away quickly from that area and into another part of the store, to catch his breath. He’d never considered marriage, ever, honestly as a spy it seemed highly impossible. So, it wasn’t shocking how foreign this all was to him. 

Sure he knew some of his colleagues were married, it wasn’t _too_ rare, but he’d never indulged in the topic as much as he was doing so now. 

He bit his lip, contemplating the wide array of jewelry before him. He would’ve stayed standing there helplessly for the rest of the day, had it not been for the sudden presence of someone on the other side of the counter. 

“May I help you pick out something, sir?” A voice said clearly, more enthusiastic than Seonghwa could handle. 

Seonghwa shook his head and tore his gaze away from the items, only to step back in shock at the sight of the jeweler. 

What the _fuck_? 

He made to grab at the man but the jeweler simply stepped aside, grinning at him, “Oh sir, please, _control_ yourself. I’m blushing~” 

If it weren’t for the presence of so many people, Seonghwa would’ve strangled him. “Jongho—! What the _hell_ are you doing here—?!” He whispered severely. 

“Please, hyung, the cameras are watching~” Jongho tilted his head in the direction of a nearby camera, watching them discreetly. “I’m only here to help you along this journey of marriage~” 

“You little shit—” Seonghwa knew the younger was only teasing him. Under their current situation, he couldn’t do anything to scold him. Eden had probably sent Jongho there because he was a new recruit that needed experience in the field. Still, when they got back to the agency, he was going to strangle him. “I wasn’t even going to buy a ring—” 

“You’re lying, hyung.” Jongho said flatly, not believing him. “I spoke to Yeosang and he told me _a lot_~” 

Seonghwa’s mouth fell open. 

_What_? 

“How the fuck did you—?” He started. 

Jongho laughed at him, “You have your techniques, and _I_ have mine.” 

Seonghwa rubbed his temples. He would have to speak to Jongho about his leads afterwards. Right now, he had to focus on wedding rings. Though with the arrival of Jongho, his train of thought completely left him. 

But then again, it’d reminded him that this entire bet between he and Hongjoong had to wait, for the sake of finding their partners. Though, if they went through with their whole fake relationship, they had more of a chance to fool these people at the resort, and hopefully gain enough intel to take the drug ring down. 

He felt sorry towards Wooyoung and San, but the mission was top priority. Seonghwa would be the winner. _He_ would find the culprit before Hongjoong. 

“Fine.” He admitted, “I’m looking for a wedding ring to fool these people into thinking I’m committed.” 

Jongho tried not to smile, but it was obvious how much he wanted to. The young man was aware of how much Seonghwa and Hongjoong hated each other. Everyone in the office knew. Even their chief, Eden. 

“That’s better~” Jongho said, like that was what he’d wanted to hear from Seonghwa since the beginning of this encounter. “How about some of the rings here?” 

Seonghwa only glanced at the selection before crossing his arms, “It needs to be expensive.” 

The young agent looked delighted, “A wise man.” He motioned Seonghwa to join him on the other side of the room, where, the display cases were smaller, hidden away from the large crowd of people towards the front. “These, I’ve seen, are the most expensive, hyung.” 

He narrowed his eyes at him, “We’re in the field, Jongho, don’t use _hyung_—” 

“Okay~ Okay~” Jongho replied, “How about this one? A gold ring with a cushion cut diamond? 4,000 in all.” 

“Still too low.” Seonghwa waved it off to look at the selection farther away from them. All the rings were either too small and insignificant, or too large for his taste. And yes, he was only keeping _himself_ in mind when it came to picking out rings. When in reality, he should’ve been thinking about Hongjoong. 

Jongho detected this. “Do you know what your . . . _husband_ would like?” 

The way he emphasized _husband_ made him wince. 

“Does it look like I would?” He bit back. 

It was true. He knew nothing of Hongjoong except for the small things he’d witnessed during his time as the man’s partner in missions. He was hardworking, sometimes he sulked, and he was a good fighter. Other than that, he’d always tried not to remember much of the spy. It felt too . . . personal? No, it felt like if he did, he would’ve lost the competitive streak they’d held for so long. At times, it was what kept them going amidst their tension. He couldn’t describe that tension, but he could easily say it wasn’t good. 

Hongjoong must’ve felt the same way. Neither of them knew much about each other. That was how they’d managed not to kill one another for so long. It was the perfect strategy, and it caused less arguing between them. But, Seonghwa couldn’t complain. He _liked_ arguing with Hongjoong, to see how far he could push him. It wasn’t ideal for their partnership, though he liked the risk. 

Jongho pursed his lips, “Maybe this is too difficult for you—” 

Seonghwa blinked, awake now from his previous thoughts. He couldn’t really believe how much time he’d spent thinking of his partner. “No, I’m aware of who my partner is—” He glared at Jongho, but only received a smirk. “Just give me some time, dammit.” 

Like before, he wasn’t impressed with anything the shop offered. He was probably just picky, or he was probably simply hesitant about the entire thing. 

A minute passed, and then two, and then maybe ten, before he stopped in front of a case of rings that caught his eye. Mostly because they looked . . . strange, or unusual. He’d never seen a ring that looked like that. 

He pointed at them, “What are these?” 

“Those?” Jongho bent down to look at the rings, “Can’t you tell?” 

“I swear Jongho—” 

“They’re two rings in one.” He explained, taking an example out of the case to show him. Like he’d said, it was clearer to Seonghwa now that they were two rings that clasped together, interlocking in place to make one. “It’s a bit old-fashioned, though for you two older hyungs—” 

“I’ll take it.” Seonghwa said, picking out the one in the center. It was the one he’d been eyeing since he caught sight of them. Also, was that an indirect hit at his age? 

If so, Jongho chose not to make it apparent. Instead, he appeared impressed, “Very nice choice.” 

Seonghwa ignored him. 

“Then, that’ll be 8,000.” The jeweler told him, grinning. “Will you pay with cash or card?” 

He hesitated when he reached his wallet. He didn’t know it would be _that_ much. “8,000?!” 

“It _is_ platinum, hyung, and there _are_ two rings in one,” Jongho showed him. It was, in fact, very beautiful. The price sounded right, but his conscience was killing him. “The diamonds add to the value as well.” 

Seonghwa threw the wallet into the man’s awaiting hands, giving up entirely. 

“Thank you.” The spy said, whispering, “_Finally_.” 

“Shut up, Choi.” 

He’d gotten it done. Thank goodness. And he actually bought a ring that he _liked_. Truth be told, he hadn’t had faith that he would even _buy_ one. 

What made him all the more confused though, was that he bought something with Hongjoong in mind. He’d never given the man presents before. When it came to birthdays and holidays, they were always determined to focus on their missions first. And when it came to just _giving_ gifts—that was almost unheard of. 

Seonghwa would be the first to get him something. He only hoped Hongjoong wouldn’t punch him again, much less _kill_ him for doing that. 

He was going to win that bet, no matter what. 

Jongho raised the exquisite ring(s) in the air, admiring them as they shined in the artificial light of the jewelry store, “Would you like this gift-wrapped, sir?”

# ________

The terrain was advantageous for the people who were currently using it as a drug transport. The mountain was steep, slick with ice that covered nearly every part of the place. Not to mention the fact that it sat facing the sun, making that ice melt and eventually turn into something inevitably slippery. The only possible way to get around was via the cars available and the cable car above. It wasn’t the best location to leave two agents alone, without immediate backup. But what could they do? 

Hongjoong had scoured a majority of the location for hours. It was nearing dusk now. And still, no sign of Seonghwa. 

That was partly good. That had given Hongjoong time to breathe, and time to search for his missing partners. So far, he hadn’t found any suspicious buildings that indicated they were holding people hostage. Underground bunkers weren’t out of the question though, but how would he go about finding certain things like that without proper tools in the first place? 

They hadn’t brought heavy duty equipment with them because they arrived there with the impression of being a normal couple. This was shaping up to be one of his most trickiest missions yet. 

And the cold didn’t help. Currently, he was standing in the kitchen, slippers on and turtleneck raised up to cover half of his face, still red from the harsh wind outside. His mind and body felt exhausted from climbing up the mountain, and he was more so tired from having to trek back down. Seonghwa had done it yesterday, but Hongjoong had taken extra precaution behind the cover of trees, which meant that he most likely entered zones that were forbidden to the guests. Thankfully, he hadn’t gotten caught. 

He was only waiting for Seonghwa to show up at that point, in order to begin highlighting their finds of the day. Hongjoong hoped that more leads would arise. He wanted to be there for a few days more, not a whole month. 

Thinking, he brought a hot cup of tea to his mouth, but he didn’t take a sip. It was enough to be holding something warm, even if his arms ached. 

Which reminded him—this cold weather had been absolute torture on his body, and yet he’d completely forgotten what came around this time of year. His birthday and—

_Christmas_. 

The holiday was just around the corner. How could he forget? He had to call his parents once he got back to the agency. And, depending on his schedule, he wasn’t sure if he’d be spending time at home or at the office. He wholeheartedly thought of his younger partners as a sort of family. It wasn’t wise, in his line of work. Double agents _did_ exist, but he couldn’t help it. 

Hongjoong turned to rest his arms on the counter, suddenly remembering the events of the previous day with his rival.

He couldn’t get started on _that_. What the hell had they _done_? It was more awkward and unfamiliar than anything else. Hongjoong clearly disliked it, judging from his reaction towards the end . . . 

Hold up—

The end? Then did that mean he . . . _didn’t_ dislike the beginning?

Hurriedly, he shook his head at the idea. 

_Stupid raven_, he thought, though was that specific raven considered family? He _was_ a part of their close knit agency. And the kids looked up to him too. 

It would’ve been unfair to say _no_. But he and Hongjoong weren’t close. They were rather distant, most of the time. That was a big reason why he’d first repelled those actions last night. He couldn’t do it, or—he didn’t want to do it with someone he hardly knew because he _wasn’t_ a raven like Seonghwa. 

It’s not that he didn’t _want_ to, he just . . . 

What? 

For a while in the man’s absence, he thought back to another winter they’d spent together. In Russia, during a mission that Eden had assigned them when they were just starting out, four years ago. He must’ve been around 21. 

Back then they’d already had problems. Their differences were so prominent, they both couldn’t help the rivalry that formed. Frankly, it was more dangerous than petty. 

Hongjoong had almost died of hypothermia then, hiding from a sniper in the outskirts of some abandoned town in the middle of a blizzard. Seonghwa hadn’t been doing any better, but he could still walk. 

_I’m going to have to run and call for backup, Kim._ Seonghwa had said to him then, readying himself to run in the line of fire. 

Hongjoong had stopped him with whatever strength he had left. His vision had turned blurry as his body froze, but somehow his focus on Seonghwa remained strong, as if that was the last person he would ever see. _You’ll die_— He had warned. 

Seonghwa shook him off, and before he ran into the open field, he told him harshly, _No, Kim, if I don’t do this,_ you’ll _die. And I can’t let that happen. I really can’t. _

That memory was hidden at the back of his mind. Sometimes, when he had the urge to truly murder him, he recalled that he kind of owed Seonghwa for saving his life. 

It was risky, though. Seonghwa could’ve been shot down by that sniper. It was pure dumb luck that he hadn’t died. Eden would’ve been left with two, very dead, agents. 

Brushing away that thought, he watched as the front door of the house opened, inviting in a gust of winter wind, along with the tall agent who he was previously thinking of. 

Seonghwa shed his jacket off quickly, dusting his hair of the snow that was currently falling outside. Hongjoong hadn’t even noticed, not even how dark it’d become inside. Lazily, he set down his teacup to turn on the kitchen light, illuminating the home. 

It was eight now. The therapist appointment for Seonghwa had taken place later in the afternoon. So what the hell had he been doing the entire time? Investigating alone?

Hongjoong didn’t voice this aloud, but he _did_ compose himself, so as not to incite an argument so early in the evening. “About time—” 

“Jongho is here.” Seonghwa said lowly, once he reached the counter. “I don’t know why—I don’t know what the chief is doing—” 

“He’s . . . here?” He whispered too. “Why? Where?” 

That was when Seonghwa paused. His eyes travelled from Hongjoong's, to the ground. He shrugged, “Just—at some store.” 

“He’s a retail clerk?” Hongjoong said, astounded. “Do they not think we can do this?” 

“I don’t know.” Seonghwa whispered back, crossing his arms in anger. “And he’s still not taking these missions seriously. He even implied that he did a better job at seducing Yeosang than _me_. I didn’t even technically try.” 

Hongjoong stared at him, disbelief on his face. 

That was a big _no_. 

“No.” He sounded pissed. Damn, he _really_ didn’t want to argue. “Don’t tell me you tried seducing our therapist.” 

Seonghwa frowned, “How else am I supposed to get through the guy?” 

“You are not going to seduce anyone else in this resort!!” Hongjoong ordered. 

“Why not?! People might have information they’re not even aware of!” 

“You’re not allowed to walk around flirting with everyone when you have _me_!” Hongjoong exclaimed, realizing the words he’d chosen much too late. 

It sounded as if he was saying they were an actual couple. He wasn’t! They _weren’t_! This was just important to the mission.

“They’ll think we aren’t a real couple if we do that. And I don’t want to jeopardize the mission.” He added, to clear the air. The cameras were probably capturing all of this. He didn’t care, as long as he stayed whispering, they could possibly get away with it. He surely didn’t want to drag Seonghwa into the shower again. Hongjoong was so close to blowing up. 

Seonghwa examined him as he always did when he tried to read him. Truly, it was annoying as fuck. Yeah, the man was a raven, but could he make it any less obvious that he was trying to get underneath his skin? 

But that was mostly just Hongjoong wanting to keep his emotions concealed. He was used to it, being a spy and all, but Seonghwa was capable of making him so _frustrated_— 

“Do you not have faith in me?” Seonghwa asked, after some time. 

Hongjoong’s eyes fell, “It seems like you don’t have faith in _me_.” 

“When did I say _that_?” His partner argued. 

He fought back, “You don’t have to say it!” 

Seonghwa moved around the counter to stand before Hongjoong, up close. “This is why we never work, Kim.” 

Hongjoong pushed him away, but stopped when he felt something in the pocket of Seonghwa’s suit. It felt like . . . a box. No—maybe something else? 

“What?” Seonghwa asked. 

“What’s . . .” Hongjoong looked at the pocket. “What’s in your pocket?” 

Seonghwa opened his mouth and closed it immediately, taking a step back. “Nothing.” 

Nothing? Bullshit. 

“Why—” He pouted, “Why are you hiding things from me?” 

“I’m _not_.” 

“This is why we’re getting nowhere—” 

“You do this too, Kim. It’s not just me.” 

“Park . . .” He hung his head low. 

This wasn’t uncommon but—he was never used to fighting with his partner. It was tiring. And it only ever happened with Seonghwa. If they weren’t arguing, they were bickering. And if they weren’t bickering, they were avoiding each other. Avoiding the problem wasn’t going to help solve it. 

He was already tired from his investigations in the day, and now this? 

“Are you like this because you don’t trust me?” Hongjoong said this in a small voice. It’d been eating at him since the start. Their reason for arguing. Maybe they didn’t hold mutual trust in each other. 

At first he believed Seonghwa hadn’t heard him, because the man didn’t respond as quickly as he wanted to. If trust was there, his partner would’ve said something without delay, but he did not. 

That was the last straw for Hongjoong. 

“It’s not that.” Seonghwa eventually responded. 

“I’m your partner and you don’t even trust me.” 

“Kim, I didn’t say that—” 

Hongjoong shoved him out of the way, leaving. Unable to think of anything else to say. Whether it was the unbearable cold that was making him grumpier than usual, or the fact that staying with Seonghwa for so long was already pushing him over the edge—he didn’t know. He didn’t even know where to go from there. They were only just starting in their mission and yet they were already fighting like this?

It was ridiculous. What had Eden seen in them? They would never work in this type of mission. To be a married couple? Fuck that. They couldn’t stand the sight of each other. 

Last night Hongjoong had agreed to _kissing_. And look how smoothly _that_ went. No way was that ever going to happen again. 

He rubbed his eyes as he made his way to the staircase to make his escape. As expected, Seonghwa wasn’t following him, nor was he going to give his apology for being so closed-off with his own partner. Fine! Hongjoong didn’t want Seonghwa to chase after him. Nope! Never. 

Hongjoong thought, he _thought_ he at least knew Seonghwa enough to finish this mission calmly, though if this kept up, he didn’t know if he would make it out of there alive. 

At this point, neither of them would.

# _________

The box was burning a hole in his jacket pocket. 

Why hadn’t he given him the ring earlier? No, he just had to go and fight with Hongjoong for the umpteenth time. He should’ve known that it would happen. The stress, anxiety, and the reminder that they were constantly being observed was taking a toll on them. Not to mention the fact that they were already on bad terms. 

Seonghwa couldn’t blame Hongjoong for feeling that way. He wasn’t a patient person to begin with, but to have cool and collected Hongjoong crumble in the middle of a mission did nothing to make him feel good. This, like many other times before, reminded him that he was lacking in something when it came to this partnership. 

_Communication._

If that was what Hongjoong wanted, then that was what Seonghwa was going to give him. It wasn’t an easy thing to fulfill, but he sure as hell had to try. His old views on not communicating were starting to hurt them excessively and inconveniently. 

This mission wasn’t like the other ones they’d had in the past. Yes, they’d been in life and death situations before, though this particular case was more intimate and personal than anything they’d done. 

Hongjoong probably wasn’t used to dealing with this sort of relationship. Seonghwa was a raven, so this was a piece of cake for him. He was too late in realizing that he should’ve helped Hongjoong with the specifics. Now, they were suffering for his mistake. 

It was time for Hongjoong to learn _Seonghwa’s_ methods. 

That proved difficult though when he stepped into their shared bedroom, only to be met with the small man sprawled out on the bed, face hidden in the messy clump of blankets and pillows thrown in a disarray. 

His clothes were still on, much to Seonghwa’s dismay. And when he meant that, he only meant that he hated when people wore their day-clothes on a place where it was meant to be _clean_. He would have to wash the sheets tomorrow. 

“Kim,” He started, waiting for a response he knew he wouldn’t get. “Kim, listen to me.” 

Seonghwa sat on the edge of the bed, waiting. When the man refused to reply, he sat back, closer so that Hongjoong could hear him. He was breaking his own rules about lying on the bed, even though his suit was new and dry-cleaned. 

He slipped off his jacket, taking the box out of the pocket before throwing the garment on the nearby couch. When Hongjoong had felt the object in the kitchen during their fight, Seonghwa had temporarily panicked. He hadn’t known why. It was only a ring. 

Was this how people felt when they proposed? 

But this was different. He was not proposing to Hongjoong. They were already married. Fake married, actually. He wasn’t supposed to feel so tense if this was all a fraud. 

The mission really was getting to them. Their lack of leads was another weight to their problems too. This was literally building up to be one of their worst tasks to date. 

Seonghwa inched closer to the smaller man, eyeing the way the agent was hiding his face, ears red from what was probably anger and annoyance. “If you won’t answer, then just listen . . .” 

He leaned on his arm, hands playing with the blue velvet box nervously. He’d never thought that it would come to this. Talking to Hongjoong, playing the role of a good husband so that they wouldn’t get killed— 

“I don’t know if you remember, but when we were in the office, you said that I have an _oppa_ and _hyung_ kink,” Seonghwa began. He wasn’t sure where it would go, but he had to start somewhere. “That’s only partly true.” 

Hongjoong stayed quiet, face planted in the silk pillows. 

Seonghwa continued, “I grew up being the youngest in my family, so I never knew what it was like to be the eldest brother.” He revealed, whispering in the necessary parts. “It wasn’t until I went to an all-boys school, that I found it cool to be called _hyung_ by my peers.” 

His memories returned as he said this. He wasn’t uncomfortable saying all of that. To be fair, he’d told people before, but never to Hongjoong. This was entirely new to him. 

“Another thing you don’t know about me is that I do get scared when I take risks.” He admitted, fingers feeling the lining of the box. The ring was heavy, heavier when he thought about actually giving it to Hongjoong. “And, as a raven, it’s not all about playing around. I work with people intimately. I can’t help but get hurt sometimes.” 

He looked over at Hongjoong, regarding the way the agent had his head turned, as if listening to Seonghwa’s confessions, “Kim, you need to hear this.” He added. “I’m sorry for not thinking about you at first. It must have been hard playing this part, especially when you have no experience as a raven. I should’ve helped you from the start, but I didn’t.” 

Still, no response. 

Seonghwa knocked his hands against Hongjoong’s lower back, box in his hand, “I’ve thought of this for a while—but maybe part of the reason why we hate one another, is because we envy what each other has.” This was already too much. He’d said enough. “We shouldn’t work, but look at us.” He waved his hands over them, “That’s why Eden always pairs us up. We work _well_ together, Kim, whether we like it or not, we do great things together. And that’s why we’ve gotten so high up in our job.” 

This time, Hongjoong stirred, looking at him from his position on the bed. His eyes were puffy, swollen like he’d cried, and his hair was sticking up from the back, clothes wrinkled and disheveled, which indicated he’d thrown some sort of tantrum. He was never accustomed to seeing Hongjoong exhausted. The man worked too hard. 

Reflecting over this, Seonghwa searched for any sort of judgement on his face, but found none of that. It was a relief knowing Hongjoong wouldn’t laugh at him for spilling so much. 

“You don’t sound like you’re lying.” Hongjoong eventually said, taking his arm suddenly to check his pulse rate. “I guess you wouldn’t, to your partner.” 

He emphasized the word _partner_. 

Seonghwa let Hongjoong hold his wrist, “I trust you with everything, Kim, even though I know you hate me.” 

“I don’t hate you.” Hongjoong said. "I _dislike_ you." 

From where Seonghwa was touching, he could tell by the man’s pulse that he wasn’t lying either. “That’s nice to hear. If so, you probably won’t kill me.” 

“Probably.” 

“Hopefully.” Seonghwa tried for a smile. 

Hongjoong only looked back, processing all that was occurring. 

They stayed like that for what felt like a long time. Once again, they were handling each other gently. Just like when Hongjoong had taken his hand yesterday, today was similar. They weren’t fighting with their fists, nor their mouths. 

“These are things we should talk about, Kim.” He said, taking his hand away for the moment. “It hurts me to say it, but we have to get along this time in order to finish.” 

Hongjoong nodded, “We also have to start telling the truth.” 

He agreed, “Of course.” 

“Then, tell me what’s in the box.” 

Seonghwa’s confidence shattered much too quickly at the mention of the gift. What could he say? No, no that was wrong. What could he _do_? 

_Give him the ring_. 

He eyed the velvet box carefully, turning it in his hands once and then twice, before sitting up to present it to Hongjoong, gathering his courage. 

“It’s a gift.” Seonghwa answered, “For you.” 

“For . . . me?” His partner didn’t look like he believed him. Seonghwa wouldn’t believe it either. “Are you—are you joking?” 

Seonghwa sighed, “I’m not joking.” 

“Really?” 

He took a breath, nails digging into the material of the box, “I bought it for us today.” He opened it steadily, “It’s a ring.” 

Hongjoong grew quiet. 

_Shit_. 

Was this a bad idea? 

He was starting to regret it, until Hongjoong looked at him, eyes widening in delayed shock, “Are you serious?” 

Seonghwa dropped his hands, “Do you not like it? I was trying to be nice—” 

“No—no, I—” Hongjoong took the box from him gingerly, examining the piece of jewelry like it was some sort of priceless artifact. Seonghwa would know. They’d once had a mission involving stolen jewels. Hongjoong had had the same look of wonderment on his face. “But . . . why?” 

“Our therapist thought it would be a good idea. But more than that,” He took the ring, showing it to Hongjoong, “It reminded me of us.” 

Seonghwa twisted the object, unhooking one from the other until two rings sat on either of his hands. One ring was a simple band of silver platinum, while the other held three diamonds that ran down the center. His intention was for Hongjoong to take the one with the precious gems, but he wanted him to have the option between the two. 

“I thought that—like the rings, we don’t look like we’d work well together.” He brought them back, twisting them in place securely, interlocking perfectly. “What people don’t know is that we _do_ make a good team.” 

Hongjoong sat up too, registering his words. 

“Think of it as a peace offering.” Seonghwa took Hongjoong’s hand, slipping the ring onto his finger and taking notice at how his prediction was true. It fit. “If you don’t like it, I’ll just take it back—” 

He was cut off all of a sudden. 

It was the first time in a while that he’d been taken off guard. 

Hongjoong was the only one capable of doing that. And he’d done so then, astonishing Seonghwa enough to freeze in place, not daring to move an inch from where he was on the bed. 

Because Hongjoong had done something to Seonghwa that he didn’t think he was ready for— 

He . . . 

He _kissed_ him. 

Hongjoong kissed _Seonghwa_. 

The small agent’s hands had slipped around his neck as he brought himself forward onto Seonghwa’s lap, fingers pressed into his shirt. 

Seonghwa barely had time to register everything that was happening, much less time to hold onto him when he decided to jump in for a kiss. 

He followed what he did yesterday and took advantage of their size difference to wrap his arms around the man’s smaller waist, hoisting him up so that he could fully sit on his lap for a better height and angle. 

It was a mere brush of their lips, soft and nothing more, lingering, hesitant, warm but at the same time a different kind of warmth. The kind of warm he never felt in the winter. It was almost like what he witnessed last night when he clutched at Hongjoong, stealing his energy. 

Hongjoong released his kiss when Seonghwa awoke from his stupor, hands running down the length of his arms. Mouth parted, Hongjoong looked like he did the previous night, restraining himself, but still flushed from the actions they’d performed and couldn’t take back. 

They were rivals, yes. They disliked each other, yes. But this was something entirely different—something _new_. 

This was something they’d never known or done before with each other. 

Seonghwa watched him, breath coming out short, holding back to see if Hongjoong would quit. They were doing so well though. They had to carry on for the sake of the mission or else— 

Hongjoong’s lips crashed into his again. Surprising him _again_. 

His partner sank lower into his embrace, nose brushing his as he tilted his head to leave a deep, open kiss on the side of his mouth. He felt . . . desperate, in a way, like he _had_ to do this. 

Seonghwa, as much as he enjoyed kissing, didn’t want that _type_ of making out. In place of that, he wanted his partner to feel good, even if only a little, even if it was _Hongjoong_. 

He took Hongjoong’s jaw, thumbing at the corner of his lips to halt him, “Kim . . .” He breathed, “Let me do this—” 

Amazingly, Hongjoong obeyed. 

Seonghwa unbuttoned his own shirt, and then proceeded to tug at Hongjoong’s tight turtleneck sweater. If they were going to do this, they needed to get rid of obstacles. 

“Why my shirt?” Hongjoong questioned, voice slightly hoarse. 

“I need your neck.” He observed the way his partner’s interest grew in Seonghwa’s commands. This wasn’t at all unfamiliar. Agents before had always asked him about his work. 

Hongjoong let go of him to finger the hems of his sweater, unsure. “O-okay.” 

Seonghwa held his hand, “You don’t have to—” 

The agent disregarded him, gradually rising up the corners of his sweater, revealing the toned abs beneath, the milky skin that hid behind . . . 

He stopped for a second, averting his eyes when he saw that Seonghwa was watching. They’d showed skin before. Sharing rooms, it was typical to catch glimpses of that. 

Hongjoong stripped away the last bit of his shirt, bringing it up and above his head before tossing it to the side, fingers finding their way back to Seonghwa, but this time directly on his skin. The contrast in their temperatures made him shiver. 

“Good.” Seonghwa shouldn’t have said that. _Good_ was an understatement. 

He’d known, for a long time, that his partner was handsome. But it wasn’t clear to him for a while, solely because he never dared to think about it. 

Seonghwa dragged his fingers over Hongjoong’s smooth back, resting them over the curve of his ass where his jeans fit snug. It was common knowledge that the man had the best one in the agency. Seonghwa envied him for that so much. Everyone did. 

“Park,” Hongjoong’s head fell, forehead knocking on his, “What now?” 

Yeah. What now? 

He was a raven, and yet he had no idea—

“Oh,” His eyes landed on the dark spots near the agent’s neck, some redder than others and still prominent from yesterday. “My marks.” 

Hongjoong had to take a minute to remember, but when he did, he clasped a hand over them, concealing them from him. “I forgot.” 

“Are you embarrassed?” Seonghwa said in a hushed tone, brushing away the younger’s long hair and hands to look at his hickeys more clearly. As usual, he’d done a good job. 

“N-no,” Hongjoong flinched when Seonghwa pressed his index finger to the swollen areas of skin, “This isn’t my first time, Park—” 

Seonghwa looked up at him, silencing him without saying a word, “I know, but this is _my_ territory.” 

Hongjoong raised a brow, but agreed nonetheless. 

“I’ll only kiss you tonight,” He went on to say, pushing Hongjoong back into the sheets until he was laying down completely. Seonghwa towered over him, knee propped in between Hongjoong’s legs as he hooked a thumb in the belt loop of the man’s tight black jeans. “But I want you to be comfortable . . .” 

With his other hand, he grasped at the pillow above Hongjoong’s head, allowing the younger to slip his arms around his neck once more. They were finally abandoning their images and history, for the sake of carrying on with the mission. 

This allowed Seonghwa to work on what he did best. It was also a great opportunity to show Hongjoong what he was made of. _This_, as he’d told him, was his territory now. 

Hongjoong peered up at him, half-worried, “Remember, I can kill you.” 

_I know_. 

That’s what made him so fucking attractive at times. 

“Good to know.” Seonghwa replied, bringing his hand down the length of Hongjoong’s thigh, nails scraping the lining of his pants. He was strong enough to rip the garment off, but for the sake of staying alive, he refrained himself from doing that to him. 

Hongjoong’s grip tightened as he did that. By far, he was probably going to be the strongest partner Seonghwa had ever touched. 

He smirked at the thought, diving in gradually to press their noses together. The other’s breathing was calm, collected, patient as Hongjoong anticipated anything more. 

Seonghwa, this time, didn’t close his eyes like he had before. No, he wanted to make sure that he knew it was Hongjoong he was kissing. Before, he’d been too proud to admit it. And what for? Hongjoong wasn’t bad. He was his partner, the one he trusted with his life, no matter how much they didn’t get along. 

Hongjoong parted his lips, eyes half-lidded, but open as well, inviting Seonghwa in. What type of kiss should he give? Something soft? Sexy? Tender? Harsh? Cool? 

As soon as he felt the cold platinum of the ring on his skin, he knew. 

_Romantic_. 

He caught his partner’s opened lips, licking at the entrance to get a real glimpse of what the other tasted like. He was warm, slick with drool as Seonghwa sighed against his mouth, deepening their kiss so that his tongue could touch his, leaving a trail of saliva as they parted only an inch. 

Hongjoong threaded his fingers in Seonghwa’s hair, nails scratching his skin as he angled himself to catch his lips better. Seonghwa stayed far above him, forcing the smaller agent to reach up and kiss him, over and over again until he gave in and pressed the man into the pillow below, leaving a trail of hot spit on the side of his mouth and into the crevice of his jawline. 

Seonghwa traced the prominent lines low on Hongjoong’s chest with playful fingers, whilst he used his other hand to cup at the younger’s cheek, bringing his face away in order to bite down heavily on the bright red spot he’d been working on. 

Hongjoong let out a low whine when he felt Seonghwa’s teeth graze his sensitive skin, but that was all. The agent covered his mouth, until Seonghwa brought his hand away from his lips to give him another intense kiss. 

Damn, Hongjoong was a really nice kisser. Like, a _really_ great kisser. Honestly, one of, _if not_, the best person he’d met who actually knew how to kiss. 

Or maybe Seonghwa just liked people who were rough. 

“More,” He whispered into the man’s ear, “More~ Okay~? You don’t have to cover your mouth.” 

Hongjoong did a curt nod, taking Seonghwa’s face in his hands. This is what they should’ve done yesterday. All they had to do was communicate. 

Gazing at him, Seonghwa barely realized just how hungry his expression must’ve looked. Hongjoong made no indication of acknowledging it though. 

His breathing was ragged, lips flushed pink and red from their kissing, “Seonghwa . . .” 

Seonghwa brought his nose to Hongjoong’s neck, inhaling his sharp cologne, mouthing the smooth flesh lightly as he followed the length of his collar and onto his exposed shoulder, tongue dipping to lick at warm skin, “Yes?” 

Hongjoong’s fingers stayed threaded in his hair, brushing at the strands delicately. At one point, he brought his hand down to display the ring, stopping Seonghwa from planting another searing kiss— “I wanted to say . . . I wanted to say thank you . . . for . . .” 

The young agent gathered himself, searching for the right words. 

He only looked on, wondering what Hongjoong was going to say next. This wasn’t the greatest time to discuss anything. They weren’t in their right state of minds. 

“Thank you for—” Hongjoong kept his hands on Seonghwa’s face. His eyes were still puffy, maybe even redder than they had been before, and wet. His eyes were definitely shining a lot more than usual. “Thank you for telling me about yourself, and also,” He flashed the ring at him, “Thank you for getting me this.” 

Seonghwa didn’t know what to say. 

There was nothing _to_ say. 

Hongjoong drew him close, to leave a small kiss on Seonghwa’s cheek. “Thank you, Park.” He murmured in his ear. 

What—?

_What?_

Wait . . . 

He panicked for the second time. 

Seonghwa gawked back at him, shaking off the spell of whatever this was. Hongjoong merely continued staring at him tiredly, like he was going to fall asleep in his arms. 

“D-Don’t mention it.” He answered so low, he was afraid the other wouldn’t hear. 

His heart sped up faster when he responded. He hadn’t known how hard it would be to see a Hongjoong that was . . . peaceful? He even gave Seonghwa his thanks. 

He gulped when Hongjoong released his face, revealing the tiniest smile as he turned away to close his eyes, tired and comfortable in their warm bed. 

It was a very small smile. Could it have even been considered a legit one? Possibly. But it was still a smile. And it still made Seonghwa lose his cool. 

Because Hongjoong had never smiled at him before. 

They’d never kissed before, touched before. 

Hongjoong had never thanked him before. 

None of this had ever happened. Now, it was making him lose his mind. 

He licked his lips, thinking over all of this as his heart echoed in his throat, reminding him of how he was currently feeling. 

Seonghwa clutched at his chest, forcing himself to calm down. 

This wasn’t good—

This wasn’t going to be good _at all_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *i literally wrote like 90% of this while sick and observing high school students for my college course. i feel dead. literally. peace out im gonna collapse now.  
* also i made a [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0NhLPgCS63WwP0msq4UxDr?si=GQvUWcVtQiev3QF4NjtpXQ) of songs that inspire me whilst i write this story :D 
> 
> *comments r dearly appreciated <3  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay.

There was always one part of the job that Hongjoong disliked. Yes there were a great many other things he hated about being a spy, but death was the biggest issue when it came to questioning why he even started in the first place. 

And he wasn’t so much concerned over his own life, but more so in the lives of his partners. He couldn’t count how many times he’d seen new recruits struggling to keep up in their very first missions. Hongjoong was no exception, as he’d stated earlier in that case in Russia—even Seonghwa had received a lot of training through nearly dying. 

That was the thing, though. No matter how much he despised someone, Seonghwa for example, he couldn’t stand putting their life on the line over something as stupid as a drug ring. He loved his job, he honestly did, but it took a toll on him. 

Why had Wooyoung and San taken the initiative on this mission? Now they were missing, probably dead, or stuck somewhere in the freezing winter cold. 

His dreams consisted of this every night, of the possible events that could occur and of the possible outcomes this mission could bring. He worried, he was a worrier, if that made any sense. He just had to know his partners were safe, in order to proceed in a more calm manner. He _had_ to protect them from the possible dangers such missions could hold. He’d trained for years, honed his craft, he was the best fighter in the agency and yet he felt completely helpless at times. 

He turned in his bed, hands covering his arms to shield himself from the cold draft of the room. The nightmares would come back if he didn’t wake up. He had to remind himself that this wasn’t a safe place, this wasn’t a place where he could be vulnerable. 

Tiredly, he ran his fingers through his bedhead fringe, opening one eye to glimpse the digital time glowing at him. 

_11:17 A.M._

He closed his eye again, adjusting himself to the comfort of the warm bed, searching blindly for the blanket that was nowhere to be felt. He was freezing, and for some reason he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He always slept with his clothes on . . . sometimes. 

Hongjoong grumbled incoherently, sleepily, and he turned on his other side to catch a few more minutes of sleep before he decided to officially wake up. Yesterday had drained him. Hiking through such difficult terrain was straining on his body. Norway was becoming the toughest place he’d ever been to. Mainly because it was so damn cold and unforgiving. 

Cold. Yeah, he was still cold, and the blanket was still missing, and so was his shirt. Why though? What had he done last night before he fell asleep? 

He reached an arm to the other side of the bed, yanking at something that was probably not a blanket, but he did it anyway. It felt like . . . like a shirt or . . . 

Opening his eyes, he let go quickly. 

_Oh_. 

_Oh no_. 

No, no, no—

Without much regard to his strength, he grabbed the blanket from the man who was blissfully asleep on his left, snoring softly with an arm draped over Hongjoong’s waist. The pull from the fabric stirred the sleeping individual, making him latch onto Hongjoong tighter, seeking warmth. 

Hongjoong, wide awake now, was panicking. Of course, he had no idea what they were doing half-naked on their shared bed. They hadn’t done anything that he could remember—

Wait. 

Wait, no, he _did_ remember. 

He covered his mouth in shock, feeling how numb his lips were. They’d . . . they’d _kissed_. No—they kissed really intensely last night. They practically made out until he fell asleep . . . in Seonghwa’s arms. 

“Nope.” Hongjoong grabbed the rest of the blanket, too forcefully again, so much that Seonghwa awoke slightly before he could fall off the edge of the bed. “Nope. Nope. Nope—” 

This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. Was he so tired that he completely gave into Seonghwa’s suggestions of kissing? What else were they expected to do now? Well, Hongjoong was _not_ going to have sex with him. Nope. 

Seonghwa shielded his eyes from the glare of the window. His shirt was slipping off his shoulders, wrinkled as the sheets below them. “What—what the fuck . . .” His voice was scratchy. 

Hongjoong covered himself with the blanket, more to conceal his bare chest then to keep himself warm. What the hell had he _done_? And with _Seonghwa_? 

He grasped the sheets, waiting for Seonghwa to fully rise so that he could _kill_ him, but then felt a sharp object on his ring finger. It was . . . 

“Holy shit you actually bought me a ring,” Hongjoong dropped the blanket to lift his hand in the air, watching the way it glinted in the harsh morning light. “I thought that was a dream.” 

Seonghwa, confused and puffy from sleeping, stretched his arms, “It wasn’t a dream. It was _real_—” 

The man was stopped by Hongjoong’s fist on his shoulder. It was a soft hit, but it was still a hit that awoke the raven enough to gape at him. “You . . . you . . .” 

“I don’t believe I deserved that punch, Kim.” He said, rubbing his shoulder and mouthing an _ouch_. 

Hongjoong splayed his hand out in front of him, eyeing the platinum ring. He wasn’t exactly mad—no, he was upset. But, that ring was exquisite. Seonghwa did a lot of things wrong, risky, though this was something he did right, for once, in Hongjoong’s books. 

Still—! 

“I can’t believe I let you kiss me.” 

“You have to admit it wasn’t bad.” 

“Park, I swear—” 

Seonghwa snatched Hongjoong’s hand before he could take it away. Their contact was like a spark, flooding his mind with the events of last night. 

This wasn’t good. If his heart sped up now, Seonghwa would feel it. And from what Hongjoong could feel of his partner, the man was calm. 

He gulped, “Anyone would be surprised waking up to—” He gestured to their appearance. If someone walked in, they would’ve assumed the obvious. “ . . . this.” 

“It’s what we agreed on, right?” Seonghwa raised a sharp brow at him. 

Hongjoong had to look elsewhere, “Park, shut up.” 

“You called me by my name last night.” 

“I always call you by your name.” 

“No, you called me _Seonghwa_.” 

He glared at his partner, taking his hand away to shield himself in the blanket once more. “No I didn’t.” 

“Liar.” Seonghwa gave him a knowing smile, which wasn’t ideal for Hongjoong so early in the morning, and especially not after what they did last night. His lips still felt numb! And he probably looked like a mess! Unlike Seonghwa who, had remained looking good even in the goddam morning. It wasn’t fair. 

Hongjoong took his own pillow and threw it at Seonghwa’s smug face, silencing him for good. 

He couldn’t have this raven reading his mind. That wasn’t his job. His job was to find a drug lord and save his partners. That was all. Nothing else. 

“I don’t remember, therefore I didn’t say it.” And then he added for good measure, “_Park_.” 

Damn him. Damn _Seonghwa_. 

Of course he remembered saying it. He felt embarrassed over it. No way in hell was he going to admit _anything_.

# ________

“Okay so for today’s class we’re going to be admitting some things that you two may or may not have said to each other before.” 

Jongho clasped his hands, rubbing them diabolically as he stared menacingly at both Hongjoong and Seonghwa. This was the first time Hongjoong had seen the young recruit in the field. Any other day he would’ve felt proud at the younger’s success, but in their current situation, he was more tempted to put him in a choke hold. 

They’d left their cabin to attend their joint therapy session. It was supposed to start an hour ago at three, but it had taken them more time than usual to get over their short quarrel in the morning. He wondered what the people behind the cameras thought of them at that point. 

Seonghwa stuffed his hands in his pockets, clearly fuming over how much Jongho was enjoying teasing his hyungs. It wasn’t usual for the agent to have a short fuse. It was only in dire times that his patience withered. 

Hongjoong tilted his head to observe the man’s attire today. His partner always wore some type of fitted, fancy black or blue suit with shiny shoes that seemed too uncomfortable for casual wear. He literally spent forty minutes to an hour in the restroom getting ready. 

But he guessed that it was part of a raven’s duty to appear sleek and expensive. Though then again, Seonghwa was one to regularly keep things clean. 

He gazed at his own ring for the fifth time that day. Seonghwa had taken the one that was solely platinum, which was good because Hongjoong had liked the look of the one with the three diamonds. They’d chosen to wear individual rings to play the part of devoted husbands. Which was a great idea, since this couple’s therapy was growing more intense as the days went by. Also, Yeosang was watching them closely, sitting in a chair and writing everything down behind Jongho. 

They were all in what looked to be a small dance room, located in a large gymnasium not too far from their cabin. The amenities continued to shock him, the scale of everything was unimaginable as well. Just what else did this resort have? 

Jongho, playing the fake therapist/retail employee (okay but what else was he going to play?) paused for a minute to throw a smile at Yeosang, who, _reciprocated_ it? 

Hongjoong’s mouth opened unawarely until Seonghwa linked his arm in his, waking him up, “Is that what we’ll be doing today?” 

“I’ll be observing your process from here.” Yeosang told them, “My assistant will instruct you on the exercises you’ll be performing.” The possible suspect was dressed softly today in another oversized knitted sweater, which was a far cry from the image Hongjoong had of a drug lord. Jongho, who was hopefully well-aware of this, had aimed to appear more like a fitness instructor than a therapist. 

“Lovely.” Hongjoong threw daggers at Jongho, but the younger completely paid no attention to him whatsoever. “Very lovely.” 

“I need you two to hold hands.” Jongho continued smirking as he forced them to stand face to face, “Nice rings, by the way.” 

Seonghwa stepped on the agent’s foot discreetly, not enough to hurt but enough to send him a silent warning. “Thank you for that observation.” 

“And I’m going to need you two to say _I love you_ to each other.” Jongho fought back with that, patting them on their shoulders with a little too much strength. “Got that? _Hyungs_?” He whispered.

Hongjoong’s mouth dropped open for the second time. “Excuse me—what?” 

“It’s an exercise to help you open up,” Yeosang explained from afar, “It’s a warm-up for the rest of the activities.” 

Seonghwa exhaled, eyes finding Hongjoong’s and sending him a, _Go with it, Kim._

He answered with a look of, _Don’t tell me what to do!_

“As a married couple, you must say it loads of times—” Jongho remarked. 

Seonghwa cut through, “Silence, please.” He flashed a fake smile at the youngest. 

Hongjoong grew stiff. 

Acting was something he excelled at. He’d done undercover jobs like this before in the past, and with Seonghwa too. They never had to be fake husbands though. For Hongjoong, it was a first. For Seonghwa . . . 

The man was a raven. Of course he had experience lying about relationships. _And_ he promised Hongjoong that he would help him along the way. He’d said it last night, when they . . . when they . . . 

He jumped when Seonghwa took his hands. He’d caught him by surprise. 

His partner saw just how nervous Hongjoong was starting to look, and his grip tightened. The cold ring on Seonghwa’s finger contrasted against Hongjoong’s warm skin, sending a row of goosebumps on his arms. 

Saying _I love you_ was easy, right? They were just words. Words like that didn’t hold significance if they weren’t meaningful, right? Right? He’d played this husband role for four days now. This was nothing compared to that kissing they’d done.

Seonghwa rubbed his thumb over Hongjoong’s left hand, reassuring, patient, as if waiting to see if Hongjoong would relax. 

He kept his promise of helping. The raven was being steady, slow enough for Hongjoong to catch up. Because Hongjoong was an expert in everything, except of course in Park Seonghwa. 

Hongjoong focused on him, maintaining eye contact. 

If he was going to be a proper agent, he had to follow the raven’s rules. 

“I love you.” Seonghwa outright said. 

His eyes widened. 

_Fuck_. 

“I . . .” Hongjoong loosened his grip on their entwined hands. 

Seonghwa stayed gazing at him, eyes full of compassion. If Hongjoong hadn’t known how they were really like behind closed doors, he would’ve assumed that Seonghwa was actually in love with him. 

He bit his lip, regarding the way Seonghwa had glanced down to watch him do that. Completely unnecessary, but okay. “I . . . I—” 

Hongjoong felt the penetrating stares of the two other people in the room watching them. This wasn’t his ideal way to tell someone _I love you_. He wanted to know how Seonghwa could do it so swiftly and without complaint. 

His partner stepped closer, closing the distance, “I love you,” He said once more, quieter this time, so that only Hongjoong could hear. 

_What the fuck . . ._

He glanced up, reading the raven’s face, but stopping to actually study it. He’d never acknowledged outloud just how handsome Seonghwa was. Well, he’d thought of it before. It wasn’t strange. He _was_ handsome. Anyone could see that. 

What people couldn’t see though, were the small things about Seonghwa that only Hongjoong could pinpoint. Being partners the most, he recognized the small scar on the raven’s lower lip, caused by that thug they’d captured on the Sky Tree in Japan. 

And it wasn’t apparent to most, but the man also had a scar on his ear, caused by a knife wound that would’ve been fatal if Hongjoong hadn’t apprehended the attacker in time. That was when they were in Russia, years ago during an ambush. He’d almost bled out.

They were young, though their faces were weathered from constantly being exposed to dangerous environments. He could read Seonghwa’s life story, and only by reading his face. 

But even with all of that, it didn’t show enough. The scars beneath the skin were much more prominent. 

He could read those too. 

Hongjoong sighed. And it wasn’t due to the fact that he hated the exercise, but because he was tired of arguing. This mission was teaching him a lot, for better or for worse. 

“I love you.” He told Seonghwa, eyes appearing sincere. He hoped they were sincere. 

But they were empty words. 

Empty words. 

Seonghwa faltered where he stood, silence enveloping them both. 

It was too quiet for a long time. Maybe a few seconds too long. Had he done something wrong?

His partner slipped his hands away to stuff them back into his pockets, turning from him. His voice cracked, “T-there. We did it.” 

Yup, he did something wrong. Fuck. 

Hongjoong stopped to stare at his own hands. They were warm, flushed red. “Yeah.”

Jongho examined them quietly, until he replied, “Okay . . . I guess we can move on now.” 

Seonghwa chose not to look at Hongjoong. That was fine. Whatever had occurred was too much to think about for now. “What else do we need to do?” 

“It’s an exercise that focuses on the emotional aspect of your relationship.” Yeosang answered for him. 

Jongho nodded, “We have to imagine a situation.” He directed Seonghwa to stand in front of Hongjoong again, “And you two need to stand facing each other for this too.” 

Seonghwa avoided Hongjoong’s eyes. 

“So, imagine a miracle occured when you slept. In the morning, what would be something you’d notice that would indicate life was suddenly better?” Jongho asked them in a careful tone, regarding the tense atmosphere, “You can take your time to think about your answers.” 

Hongjoong took his hands this time, grabbing his attention. 

The raven stood up straight, looking at him, “Fine.” He laced their fingers. 

Another moment of silence. 

It was deafening, to tell you the truth. And with Jongho and Yeosang there, it didn’t help. It would’ve been better if they were alone. 

Seonghwa pulled him close, “Life would be better if you were always safe.” 

Uh . . . 

Okay, that wasn’t what he thought Seonghwa was going to say. 

Hongjoong looked down to their shoes, trying to find his own response. But first of all, why such touching words? Seonghwa was a better raven than Hongjoong had originally thought. Yeosang, even Jongho, were eating up his statement as if it was real. 

He hoped it was real. He _was_ the man’s partner, after all. And judging by what Seonghwa said last night, Hongjoong soon realized how emotional Seonghwa could be. 

“Life would be better if I knew you didn’t have to be scared.” Hongjoong eventually said, saying his own thoughts aloud. They were true. Life would be better if people didn’t live in fear. That was why he was a spy. He got rid of the bad guys so that others could live in peace, even if just a little. “I want you to be happy.” 

Seonghwa dropped his hands to wrap his arms around Hongjoong’s waist. It didn’t appear as if he knew what he was doing. Hongjoong didn’t know what he was doing either, letting Seonghwa hold him. 

Jongho disrupted them by clearing his throat. “Excuse me, gentlemen.” 

Yeosang also joined in, “Yes, excuse us but we should move onto _soul-gazing_ before the session time is up.” 

“Just stay as you are,” Jongho told them smartly, “And look into each other’s eyes for maybe three minutes—” 

“Three minutes?” Hongjoong said this too loudly, he had to cover his mouth. “Isn’t that a bit too . . .” He looked at Seonghwa from the corner of his eye, but gave in when the older simply shook his head at him, warning him.

They could do this. 

“I’ll start the clock now.” Jongho checked his watch. 

Hongjoong could barely hear him, instead he couldn’t stop thinking about how ridiculous this entire thing was. Here he was spilling his guts out to a man who had constantly voiced his complaints towards Hongjoong for years. They couldn’t just abandon all of that over a few heartwarming words. 

Was that possible? 

“Kim,” Seonghwa said below his breath, “Focus.” 

He wanted to say something in response, but found that he couldn’t. His thoughts were being displayed on his face, weren’t they? 

How could he not be worried? They had to look for their partners, bust a drug ring, keep their new recruit safe, and double check to see if Yeosang was indeed innocent. 

There was too much to do and with no time to spare. Oh, and being partners with his rival wasn’t of any help. 

But they were getting better. 

He hoped they were getting better. 

Frustrated, he focused on the exercise as best as he could, keeping in mind the fact that Jongho was standing right beside them. Yeosang wasn’t being subtle either with his pen scratching at his notebook from time to time, documenting everything. If only they hadn’t been late. Then maybe they wouldn’t have been rushed to do all of this. 

Seonghwa’s stare was penetrating, intense in comparison to his. Hongjoong tried to portray himself as disinterested, tired, which wasn’t a lie. He _was_ starting to get sleepy from only staring at his partner. He couldn’t help it. 

Then, his eyes fell to Seonghwa’s lips, the ones he kissed first. They were nice lips, soft, perfect for kissing—and the raven was pretty good at it too. _Not_ as good as Hongjoong though. Hongjoong definitely would have made a decent raven. Probably. 

He averted his eyes back up to Seonghwa’s, hoping he hadn’t gotten caught staring at his lips for so long. He had to get used to it. The kissing last night wouldn’t be the last. He complained to Seonghwa in the morning, but on the inside he didn’t technically mind it much—

Didn’t . . . mind it much? 

His fingers pinched at the nice material of the man’s suit, knuckles turning almost white at the strain of having to keep their eye contact. 

He couldn’t do it. He really couldn’t. By the time the three minutes had passed, he stopped looking at Seonghwa to finally breathe and let go of their tight hold and—

To stop Seonghwa from giving him that concentrated stare, Hongjoong hooked a foot behind his partner’s leg and pushed him back until he fell to the floor. 

Only Hongjoong hadn’t been smart enough to let go in time so, he toppled over the taller man immediately afterwards with a loud bang, regretting it after he hit the floor and his partner painfully hard. Not a smart move, but it killed the mood, which was his main goal. 

“Kim, what the fuck—?!” Seonghwa knocked his head against Hongjoong’s accidentally, causing them both to see stars. “What are you doing—” 

“I fucking tripped, okay?” Hongjoong bit back, almost yelling once he found his balance. His voice echoed in the dance room. Also, this position wasn’t helping his already aching limbs. He was literally on top of Seonghwa, legs tangled until he couldn’t make out which ones were his. Thankfully, the floor was covered in yoga mats. “You’re the one who grabbed onto me—!” 

“What else was I supposed to grab?!” 

“Then you shouldn’t have tripped in the first place!” 

“You’re the one who pushed me!” 

Jongho walked up to them, shutting down their argument, “Sir, please.” 

Hongjoong lifted his head up to glare at the fake therapist, which was effective because the young man shut up. 

Yeosang, from his seat afar, smiled down at them. Not a hint of suspicion on his face, thank goodness. “Jongho, it’s fine.” He rose to place a hand on Jongho’s shoulder, squeezing it. “We’ll just assign their homework now. Our time’s up anyway.” 

“Homework?” Seonghwa asked, still below Hongjoong, _still_ trying to pry him off but failing miserably. “What homework?” 

Hongjoong stopped trying to punch Seonghwa once the agent grabbed both of his wrists. They frowned at each other, not needing to say anything. These exercises had done more harm to them. Hongjoong was still embarrassed over having to stare at Seonghwa for longer than a minute. 

“What’s the homework?” Hongjoong said, eyes not leaving Seonghwa. “Don’t tell me it’s something like _cuddling_—” 

Jongho stooped to their level, a grin crossing his face as Hongjoong tried not to punch him too. He would spare him . . . today. 

“How did you know?” Jongho said. “Cuddling is great for the soul and—” He glanced at them both, “We’d know if you didn’t do it, right?” He said below his breath, just so only they could hear. 

Seonghwa let go of his wrists. A sign of defeat. Hongjoong didn’t bother getting off of his partner. 

Maybe they wouldn’t spare their young agent. 

“Cuddling . . .” 

_Cuddling._

No, they were going to end up killing one another before that.

# ________

Hongjoong had taken the fake therapist by the shirt collar and slammed him against the tiled bathroom wall harshly, with a death grip that meant Jongho couldn’t leave, even if he wanted to and even with that equally great strength of his. 

They were currently in the last bathroom stall of the gym’s locker room. It was snowing outside, therefore none of the guests were out and about anymore except for Hongjoong and Seonghwa, who were there because their therapy session had just ended minutes ago. 

Yeosang had left them to attend another session, which meant that they were now free to murder their beloved new recruit in the silence of an empty gymnasion. Eden wasn’t going to be happy about their progress. 

Jongho raised his hands up in the air, “I give in, I give in, hyung.” 

They were packed in a tiny stall, with Hongjoong standing right in between Jongho and Seonghwa. The raven wasn’t unsettled by the way Hongjoong was handling this. In fact, he merely looked on with his arms crossed, black hair concealing most of his severe gaze. 

Hongjoong fisted the man’s collar tightly, “Tell us everything you know.” His grip tightened, “Or I’ll throw you in the lake.” 

“Okay, okay hyung,” Jongho didn’t try to escape. “I was gonna tell you sooner—” 

“Is the drug grown on the island?” Seonghwa interrogated, voice dropping an octave lower. It was almost a growl. Hongjoong had only ever heard him speak like that when things were serious. 

The younger nodded, “I’m guessing it is, because there’s lots of it and people buy it in loads.” 

“The guests here?” Hongjoong questioned. 

“The employees find suitable guests who meet the criteria and they sell it to them.” Jongho revealed. “They don’t trust me enough to tell me more though.” 

Seonghwa rested back on the stall, “So what now? Do we convince them that we need it?” 

Hongjoong loosened his hold on Jongho, “We don’t even know what it is.” 

“Ah, that is what I was trying to tell you, hyungs.” 

Seonghwa and Hongjoong turned to him at the same time and in unison asked, “What?” 

Jongho let the faintest smile grow on his face, “You really haven’t guessed it yet?” 

“Just say it Choi—” 

“It’s an aphrodisiac.” He said, swatting away Hongjoong’s hand to dust off his shirt. “A sex drug, to put it simply.” 

They fell into a silence that was more awkward than when they were staring at each other. Well, maybe it was just Hongjoong who felt that way.

Was he . . . for real? 

“I kind of guessed it.” Seonghwa put in. 

Hongjoong gawked, “Pardon?” This was the only time he’d ever worked with a drug that was an aphrodisiac. It scared him. 

The raven shrugged, “Not the first time I’ve come across it.” 

“Yes, yes, we get it you’re a _raven_,” Jongho stood closer to Hongjoong before Seonghwa could grab at him. “But the main point here is that you two are nowhere close to getting any samples of that if you keep arguing like you did back there.” 

“Does it matter anyway?” Hongjoong pressed a finger to his temple, feeling a headache coming on as they continued this conversation. “It’s more important to find the drug lord, and we can’t forget about Wooyoung and San.” 

Jongho grew quiet at the mention of those two. It was hard for Hongjoong to process, but it must have been tougher for their youngest to witness his fellow agents disappear for the first time, and on his first mission too. “I . . . I haven’t gotten any leads for them either.” 

Seonghwa nudged Hongjoong on the arm, like he was trying to tell him to drop the subject for now. Seonghwa was amazingly good at that, taking care of the kids. “And Yeosang? What have you found on him?” 

At the mention, the younger’s spirits steadily regained life, “Oh, Yeosang?” 

He remembered something that Seonghwa had told him yesterday. Something that went along the lines of _tried to seduce him_, but he prayed that wasn’t the case. 

“While you two were playing couple, _I_ actually got a lot of information out of Yeosang.” Jongho chided with a smirk.

This time it was Hongjoong’s turn to scold, “You can’t go around flirting with him, Choi, he’s a possible criminal and our number one suspect.” 

“So? That kinda hot, hyung.” 

“Choi, _shut up_.” 

“Okay, okay,” The smile stayed on his face. “He’s a great guy, funny, smart, oh and—” Jongho leaned in, hand partly covering his mouth to whisper. Hongjoong and Seonghwa had to lean in too, to listen. “He’s the one who writes the prescriptions for the drug you two are looking for.” 

Seonghwa’s brows creased, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” 

“Why would I lie to my favorite hyungs?” 

“You’re lying right now.” 

“Yeah, okay, you got me on that one.” 

“How the hell are we expected to locate that drug without possibly contaminating ourselves with it?” Hongjoong said more to himself. It was always good to take a sample back to their labs, but if this was going to be a drug with aphrodisiac properties, then how were they expected to handle it? 

Jongho shook his head, “That’s the job assigned to you, hyungs. _I’ve_ been spared.” 

“As long as we don’t touch it, then we’ll be fine.” Seonghwa took Hongjoong’s shoulder, shaking it, “Now that we know what this drug is, things will be easier from here on out. We _know_ what it is, so all we have to do is find it.” 

Hongjoong only vaguely listened. 

He’d worked with drugs before, but never an aphrodisiac. He’d heard the stories, of people being injected with it or exposed to it. Drug busts weren’t his favorite, no, they were his most hated type of mission. 

Mostly, he relied on his intelligence and combat in the field, though he’d had instances where an enemy would tranquilize him. Helplessness was not a feeling he particularly liked. 

Seonghwa’s hand fell from his shoulder to reach his fingers, alerting him back to reality. “We’ve gotta go back and search the cabin for any clues, alright?” 

Hongjoong blinked at him, confounded by the fact that his rival was treating him nicely _and_ holding his hand when there was no one around too fool, even if it was just a mere brush of their skin. 

How had they become so attuned to each other, to the point where they could touch like this, sensing if one wasn’t feeling well or distressed? 

He didn’t let go, for once. 

“Let’s go, then.” He answered. 

This job wasn’t going to finish on it’s own.

# ________

So maybe investigating the house was a bad idea. There _were_ bugs located throughout the place, and it would’ve looked suspicious if they’d gone through every nook and cranny to find a solid piece of evidence that could’ve helped them in their search for Wooyoung and San—but what else could they do? They already tried searching for the actual owner of the resort, but came up with nothing. Jongho didn’t know who it was, since he’d been personally chosen and hired by Yeosang, who, had asked for an assistant. 

Hongjoong was pleasantly surprised by how easy Jongho had fit into this role he was playing, and was more impressed by the fact that he’d remained so calm under such a stressful environment. First missions were never easy, rarely fun, but they taught you a lot. 

It was doing that now, teaching him how to stay poised and relaxed even when his partner was lounging on the couch whilst Hongjoong was on his knees, digging through all of the kitchen cabinets one by one, to look for anything that seemed suspicious. He _did_ find something that looked like a microphone, and there _was_ a sketchy-looking object on a higher cabinet that definitely could be a camera. 

But he made no indication to check if they really were the real deal or not. He didn’t want to take his chances, not when their progress was doing fine. They’d made it to day 4, and they would keep trying their best until they left. 

Tiredly, he picked himself up from the cold floor and snatched a bag of chips from the counter. The kitchen was a mess. 

“Catch,” He told Seonghwa as he rounded the corner to sit beside his partner. Close, in order to talk to him without letting the microphones pick up onto anything. He _hoped_ they weren’t capable of recording their whispers, but ever since the shower incident, Seonghwa hadn’t trusted him near water faucets. 

Seonghwa caught the bag without even looking, and settled the un-opened snack on the coffee table before them. The wide window to their left was spilling in the colors of dusk, as well as a shower of snowfall. It’d began snowing thickly as the hours went by. Hongjoong thought it was pretty. Seonghwa hadn’t paid much attention lately. Something was on his mind, it was visible. 

Hongjoong let out a deep breath before he sat himself closer to the raven, hoping he looked as if he was just a husband sitting beside his partner. He didn’t know how he felt about this change between them. If this had been the very first day, Seonghwa would’ve thrown him off the couch, but today— 

The taller man swung an arm over Hongjoong’s shoulders, bringing him in much too close. Hongjoong was practically being held by the raven, so naturally, like they’d done it many times before. They really hadn’t. Seonghwa was just _that_ good at acting like they were a devoted couple. 

“Anything?” The raven said, face in the direction of the window. The shadows of the snowfall were playing on his skin. 

He rested his head on the raven’s shoulder. This wasn’t . . . bad. This wasn’t bad at all, surprisingly. Though he _had_ pushed Seonghwa to the floor earlier. He couldn’t forget that. “A few things.” 

Seonghwa expressed interest, “Like . . .?” 

Hongjoong pretended to snap a picture at him, “Yeah, that.” 

“Then I guess we’ve got to keep this up.” He concluded. 

“I’m trying my best.” 

“Didn’t say you weren’t.” Seonghwa loosened his arm. “I said I would help you, didn’t I?” 

“But it’s still hard.” Hongjoong brought his legs up onto the couch, sitting up to get a better look at him, “It was fine for Woo and Sannie since they’re already practically a couple—hell, even Mingi and Yunho—” 

“You don’t think I’m aware of that?” Seonghwa reached over to cup a hand over Hongjoong’s cheek, muffling their words just the tiniest bit. He continued speaking lowly, “We’ve gotten this far, Kim, we can do this.” 

Hongjoong couldn’t help the pout that grew on his face. Seonghwa was recognizing how troubled he was. Could they do this? Could they still save their partners? Was this all for nothing? They only had one suspect, but now they knew what drug they were supposed to be looking for, so were they on the right path? 

The ring on Seonghwa’s finger was cold on his face, reviving his spirits. An idea struck him as his thoughts came pouring out. If the drug was grown on the island, then it was possible they’d been exposed to it. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Yes.” 

“Have you felt . . . strange?” 

Seonghwa laughed. He knew what Hongjoong was referring to. Damn raven. “I have not been in the mood for sex since we got here, Kim. If that’s what you’re implying.” 

Hongjoong slapped his hand away, “I hate you.” 

“I thought you disliked me.” 

“I dislike you, very much.” 

The older smiled at him warmly, like he was amused. It made Hongjoong sit back, confused by the display of emotion before him. “Good to know.” Seonghwa murmured. 

Hongjoong, still uneasy, refused to reply. 

Seonghwa looked so _soft_ just then. Had it been due to the lighting? The dripping snowfall behind him? Or was it because Hongjoong was feeling sleepy as they sat there, together, _close_? 

It was a raven-thing, wasn’t it? That was why he was so confused by Seonghwa sometimes. This was only a raven technique. Yeah. 

Nothing else.

# ________

They hadn’t done much in the day, besides that therapy appointment and the discreet searching they’d accomplished in the house. It wasn’t a quiet day, necessarily, they still had a few disputes with their young recruit and with each other. It was a day of progress, but it was a day of contemplation too. 

That was mainly why Hongjoong was so tired after taking that hot shower. He was suprised he hadn’t fallen asleep under the running water. On the bed, hair wet and clothes incredibly warm, along with the sound of steady wind outside—he was ready to sleep. 

As a spy, being naturally sleepy like this was inconvenient, and Seonghwa had scolded him from time to time about it as well. He couldn’t help it. 

He rolled to his stomach, face pressed to the pillow in order to get the shut eye he needed to rest. Seonghwa was on the other side of the bed, getting ready to sleep alongside him. By the time they’d finished discussing their plans for the next day, it’d already become 2 in the morning. They had to relax. Tomorrow would bring much conflict to this serene bubble they were in. 

Hongjoong groaned when Seonghwa placed a towel atop his head. When he looked up, the older was staring back at him strictly, “You’ll catch a cold like that.” 

He took the towel from the man’s hands and began to dry his hair with it. “Fine.” 

Seonghwa appeared happy that they hadn’t argued so far. The raven laid back on the bed, pajamas consisting of sweatpants and a white T-shirt. He’d used a blow-dryer, which made the man’s hair fluffy. Too bad, since Hongjoong liked it when the older kept his wet hair pushed back. _Not_ because he harbored a faint admiration for him. No. 

Far from it. If they had a choice, neither of them would be doing this. They wouldn’t have kissed, they wouldn’t have had their hands all over each other last night. This was officially the only mission where they’d had to share a bed. On day one, he hardly slept. But as the days progressed, it grew easier to close his eyes. They were getting to know each other, trust each other too quickly. He didn’t know what to make of it or what to call it. 

Because they’d always expressed their hate towards one another before. But now, now they were tolerating each other beautifully. He had to give himself a congratulatory pat on the back for not killing Seonghwa yet. They’d even _kissed_. Just how many times would he think about that? 

He stiffened when the memory presented itself in his mind. The feel of the agent’s hands running down his leg, nails scratching his thigh as his lips pressed forcefully against his own, tongue lapping at his entrance until he finally gave in and opened his mouth for a searing kiss— 

Okay, this was not the place nor the time to be thinking of that. What if Seongwha brought it up? Would they kiss like they did last time? 

Hongjoong couldn’t help how hot he was starting to feel. 

“Kim—” 

“W-what?” His tone of voice was cautious. 

Seonghwa raised a brow, hearing his uncertainty. “Is . . . something wrong?” 

He shook his head rapidly. 

Oh great. Now he wasn’t the least bit sleepy anymore. 

“We have an assignment,” Seonghwa continued, ignoring the internal chaos erupting inside Hongjoong. “Remember?” 

At this, Hongjoong calmed down. “Are you serious?” He had to laugh. “We don’t have to actually do that—” 

The raven’s expression turned sour, eyes narrowed at every possible camera in the room. Like the kitchen, there must’ve been around 4 of them located in this single spot alone, not to mention the microphones. This _was_ the bedroom. 

Hongjoong faltered, “You’re serious.” 

“It’s only _cuddling_, it’s not like I’m going to . . .” His voice trailed off. After a split second, he coughed, “Just sleep in my arms like you did last night.” 

“I did _not_—” 

“The more you deny it, the more time we waste.” 

He glowered, feeling a pout begin to form on his face. Whenever he did that, Seonghwa would sigh, as if he knew just how done Hongjoong was. 

He _was_ spent. Being in digsuise 24/7 was tiring, and keeping up appearances in front of possible suspects didn’t make things easier either. Oh, and having to look professional in front of new recruits wasn’t a walk in the park. 

There was that voice in his head nagging at him too, ever since he’d woken up. It bothered him throughout the day, pointing out the tiniest things like—like, how he felt relieved when Seongwha had told him _I love you_ so easily. 

He used the majority of the next minute to pout, rethinking all of the ridiculous thoughts he’d been having because of a certain raven. He couldn’t believe how swayed he’d become because of the man. Hongjoong wasn’t so easy, not after many years of clashing. 

Seonghwa drifted forward, hands on either side of Hongjoong to look up at him, “Let me help you, Kim.” 

Hongjoong let his shoulders relax, giving in to reality. He couldn’t be stuck in his mind for the remainder of the night. He’d done enough thinking for one day. He was fucking tired now. 

“Are you going to kiss me?” He said, words tumbling out of his mouth before he could even process them. 

The raven was taken aback, clearly. He’d also learned from his mistakes, because he didn’t retreat away. Hongjoong wouldn’t have known what to do if he wavered. “ . . . only if you want me to.” 

_Wow. Alright. So this is going to be a thing now._

And like he’d expressed before, it wasn’t a bad kiss. Ultimately, it made him forget about the mission for a small while, which wasn’t good. He had to keep himself alert at all times. But, it wasn’t unpleasant to indulge in simple pleasures like kissing, even with Seonghwa. 

Wait— 

Wait. Wait. Wait. 

He held his head in his hands, covering his face so that he wouldn’t have to look at Seonghwa anymore. “I’m going to kill all of you once we get back home.” 

“Glad to know I’m that much of a terrible partner.” Seonghwa muttered. 

This time Hongjoong did get a good look at him, “Not what I said.” 

“Kim, I know we hate each other sometimes, but can you make it less obvious that you hate my methods?” Seonghwa sat on his knees, looking as defeated as ever. 

Hongjoong had forgotten how damaging it was to repeatedly stop a raven from doing their job. Seonghwa was a master of seduction and yet Hongjoong wasn’t having any of it. He felt bad over causing such distress in the man. 

“Shit, no—that is definitely not what I meant, Park,” Hongjoong knocked his knees against Seonghwa’s. “No, I just—I didn’t _hate_ it, no—I mean, you’re very good at what you do, but—” 

Seonghwa sighed again, but this time it sounded more like he was happier that Hongjoong didn’t completely hate him. “I just . . . I didn’t want to force anything bad on you, Kim . . .” 

_Oh._

“It helped.” Hongjoong had to say it. He had to let the words escape his mind so that he could stop thinking about it. “We’ve just ended up being rivals with—with benefits I guess.” 

“Rivals with benefits?” Seonghwa laughed at his choice of words. “Please, that is the worst idea you’ve ever come up with, Kim.” 

“It’s better than dying.” 

The raven’s eyes glinted at that statement. “Yeah, yeah, I guess you’re right.” 

Seonghwa was correct about them wasting time. They were only talking, but even talking was good. Letting out everything was good, and so was fooling the cameras. 

If they hadn’t killed each other yet, even after kissing, then maybe they could do this. Maybe they were better agents than they thought. Surely they would get a raise after this, or a promotion. 

His heart sped at the idea of it. More than anything, he longed for a promotion, and with Seongwha as a raven, and with this mission being as intimate as it was, then it was highly possible they would be rewarded. Hongjoong only needed to cooperate without complaint, which was something he was failing to do at the moment. 

He cursed at himself for being so weak. Just because this was the first time he’d kissed someone he didn’t like, did not mean that he was completely incapable. 

“ . . . I don’t mind if you kiss me,” He said faintly. 

He was a great actor. After various undercover missions through the years, he could do this. 

Seonghwa’s eyes darkened at his words. “Are you sure?” 

_Do I have to always ask?_

Hongjoong tugged at the raven’s shirt. 

He could do this. 

“C’mere, Kim.” Seongwha took his hand to bring him back to the bed, just until they were both lying comfortably, facing each other. The sheets were warm, tempting him to fall drowsy, but he couldn’t let that happen. 

The older brought those blankets up and over their shoulders, but he kept his arms around Hongjoong underneath, to press equally warm hands to the expanse of his back and waist, holding him close. 

Gently, Seonghwa tugged at Hongjoong’s pillow, breaths mingling, hot, but not uncomfortably so. The man smelled like mint, and flowers, from his cologne. Roses, or jasmine. 

Hongjoong waited. He waited to see if the agent would do anything more. Which was pointless because he’d guessed too late that all Seonghwa was going to do was _cuddle_. Stupid raven. 

“Not tonight, Kim.” He said, allowing Hongjoong to curl his cold fingers on his shirt hems. 

“I thought you were a raven.” 

“I’m a human, first.” Seonghwa placed his chin atop Hongjoong’s head. His voice sending short vibrations through his body. “We don’t have to kiss at every given moment.” 

Hongjoong didn’t say a word. 

“Unless you want to.” The raven added, to which Hongjoong punched him lightly on the chest. 

Cuddling didn’t stop him from thinking about the dangers of this mission, but kissing did. Last night, it was Hongjoong’s turn to be selfish, but now—now it was Seonghwa’s. If his partner wanted this, _preferred_ this over kissing, then Hongjoong would have to give in and let him. 

They were constantly afraid, at risk of dying, and uncertain. 

They really only had each other to lean on. 

Now, if only he’d noticed that sooner, back when they’d had all those missions together. Back, when he thought that working solo was best. 

“Maybe tomorrow.” _I’ll kiss you_. 

Seonghwa hugged him, and it didn’t feel forced, it felt . . . “Okay, tomorrow.” 

Hongjoong dared to meet his eye, though was too late. Seonghwa’s lashes fluttered shut, breath relaxing. He was more serene when asleep, the sharp lines of his face toned down, allowing Hongjoong a look at Seonghwa from a different light, a softer light. 

_Wow_, he thought. 

This felt . . . 

He fisted his own shirt, feeling his heart thrum in his chest as he watched his sleeping partner, handsome, annoying but still caring, caring enough to drop their rivalry for the time being in order to help Hongjoong succeed in this mission. 

“Oh no.” He said to himself. “Oh my god—“ 

This felt like . . . like _love_.

# ________

_Wooyoung._

San awoke with a start, name catching on his dry lips as he tried to re-alert himself to the situation at hand. 

It was freezing cold, and from what he could make of his bleary, half-dazed vision, he saw that he was in some tiny room, compact and made entirely of concrete. 

His body felt rigid, sore, like he’d been in that sitting position for quite a while, possibly days? Someone had hit him over the head so hard, he’d blacked out. Luckily that wasn’t the first nor the only time that had happened. He only hoped they didn’t leave any visible scars in their scuffle. 

The people who’d captured them were good, but they weren’t as good as San. He and Wooyoung had been in relatively fine condition before they were compromised, which was helpful, considering now they were probably going to be interrogated (tortured) for any information they’d found. 

He would be lying if he’d said they _did_ find good leads. Their entire mission hadn’t sprouted much in regards to information. In fact, he was close to suggesting they abandon the place, until . . . until _this_ happened. 

San thought back to that day where they were separated. Wooyoung hadn’t acted at all like himself then, which automatically made San aware that something was wrong. His partner had shown signs that he understood why they were taken in—then did that mean he was a double agent? 

Not that San cared in the slightest. All he cared about in that moment was getting out, and finding Wooyoung. Double agent or not, San’s feelings hadn’t swayed. If they got out of this alive, he would take Wooyoung on a proper date—they wouldn’t have to be a fake couple. 

With that determination in mind, he shook his head, watching the room through the strands of his hair. After a few minutes of waking up, he could feel his limbs. His arms were tied behind his back, and so were his legs. He was sitting in a very uncomfortable metal chair at an equally shiny metal table. An interrogation room. 

He stretched his arms, hands splaying out, to feel his fingers. He hung his head to the side, hair still covering his face as he eyed the single security guard pacing five feet away from him on the other side of the table. 

Just _one_? Were they underestimating him? Even after all the damage he’d done to them? 

The man was clutching a rifle and had more than a handful of dangerous accessories on his utility belt, including another gun. This indicated that the place was what he’d expected—a very expensive drug ring that was capable of deceiving the authorities. 

He had to hold in a sigh, so as not to inform the guard that he was awake. San wanted to take him by surprise, and quickly too. He just had to find the best possible way to make it out of the room, because as he’d deducted, he knew it wouldn’t be as quiet as he wanted it to be. 

Explosives? Maybe. A make-shift bomb? But from what supplies? Gun powder? He had to disarm the guard anyway. 

San licked his lower lip, tasting the dried blood that had collected as he slept. It pissed him off, being held like this. He had better things to do like, save Wooyoung. But Wooyoung knew how to take care of himself, so San wasn’t too worried. 

Still, that was his new _boyfriend_ they were holding captive. If San didn’t hold himself back, he would end up destroying the place just to find him. 

He tugged at the flimsy ropes binding his wrists together, arm muscles flexing as he did so. 

First, before anything else, before getting even more angry— 

San had to escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sorry for the delay :"(  
*also this chapter is pretty fluffy cuz the next chapter is gonna stay true to the E rating so👀👀👀yeah it's gonna be pretty heavy lol  
*also i'm hoping to finish this fic before christmas :D 
> 
> *comments r dearly appreciated <3  
*Spotify [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0NhLPgCS63WwP0msq4UxDr?si=GQvUWcVtQiev3QF4NjtpXQ) for this fic :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Okay I'm just gonna post this update now.
> 
> Also me: *drops this new chapter and runs away screaming*
> 
> **trigger warnings: drugs, blood, mild violence, explicit sex**

Okay, so maybe he was starting to develop some romantic feelings towards his longtime rival/partner. No—he was probably starting to _realize_ them, after years of blindly fighting. 

Or, maybe not . . . 

He couldn’t exactly tell, and all because Hongjoong hadn’t stayed in one place long enough for Seonghwa to actually think it over. Yeah, Hongjoong was avoiding him for some reason, and he didn’t know why. 

Lately, the one thing preoccupying his mind was none other than his rather small partner in crime, which was confusing but not at all surprising, considering this undercover mission and the roles they had to play in order to finish it. He finally stopped to think about why his attitude changed so dramatically around Hongjoong, and came to the conclusion that, yes, against all of his better judgements, the man did have some sort of effect on him. What kind of effect—he wasn’t sure, but the last time he’d felt this way was too long ago, when he’d been in _love_. 

Not that he’d forgotten what it was like. No, he could never forget something like that. What was ailing him about it all though, was that this was _Hongjoong_ he was talking about. His rival, enemy, overall esteemed spy in their agency (much to Seonghwa’s great jealousy), and not to mention the fact that the smaller man absolutely loathed him. Hell, Seonghwa was having a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that Hongjoong made his heart skip a beat that night when they shared their first kiss. 

He couldn’t call any of it bullshit, not when he was the master of all things regarding emotions. He was a trained raven, with years of practice under his belt. He _knew_ this feeling was something else, something he never thought he’d feel again. 

In all honesty, he hadn’t wanted to feel that way anymore. Being in a relationship as a spy (not to mention a raven), was incredibly difficult to sustain, and almost impossible to have or acquire. _Not_ that he was imagining doing that with Hongjoong of all people. 

No—he had to expel that feeling from his mind. 

Now, if only he could do that with his heart too. 

But how could he do that when they were constantly being watched? Yesterday hadn’t been great either, with Yeosang and Jongho both watching them from close by. Also, with Hongjoong telling him _I love you_, with that look of pure _adoration_ in his eyes. Where had he learned to act so well? It was making Seonghwa anxious. And _nothing_ like that made him anxious. He’d seduced top criminals, politicians, celebrities—Seonghwa hadn’t felt anxious with _them_. So . . . what was wrong with him this time around? 

His eyes fixated to the bathroom, where, a steady stream of steam fell out into their shared room, indicating to him that Hongjoong had just gotten out of the shower. Seonghwa was standing in the doorway, hands in his pockets and nearly ready to confront Hongjoong on why they hadn’t spoken since last night. 

In the morning, Hongjoong had left him early to ‘investigate’. What he hadn’t known was that by ‘investigate’, he actually meant he’d be gone for hours until late afternoon, _without_ telling Seonghwa. He then proceeded to not speak to him _and_ avoid him whenever they crossed paths in their house. They had a mission to complete! Why was he behaving mysteriously? 

The only times they avoided each other like this was—well, it wasn’t uncommon. But this was the sort of silence that was definitely off. It felt tense, in a way, like he’d done something to upset Hongjoong. What, though? He was constantly upsetting Hongjoong, so what exactly had Seonghwa done this time? Unless there was something bothering Hongjoong. If so, then they needed to talk. 

Which was hard, because even though Seonghwa remained standing there in the doorway, clearly waiting for Hongjoong to turn around and see him and _talk_ to him, the small man still didn’t make any indication of wanting to create any sort of conversation with him. Basically, it felt like the man had put his guard up, like he hadn’t wanted Seonghwa to disturb him. 

It was infuriating. 

“Kim,” He tried. He really, really tried. “Is something wrong?” 

Hongjoong, with his face concealed by a towel hanging over his head, ignored him, as if he hadn’t heard Seonghwa in the first place. The tiny agent simply continued drying his hair, body facing the direction of the wide window. It was nearing sunset, and they were wasting time. 

Seonghwa strolled over to him, hands still in his pockets as he tried to peer beneath the towel to look at Hongjoong’s face. It proved unsuccessful. “Kim, I’m trying to help.” 

Hongjoong flicked the towel at Seonghwa as he walked off in the other direction to grab a sweater from the bed nearby. He slipped into the wool garment, avoiding Seonghwa altogether. 

If it wasn’t obvious before, then now it was clearer that Hongjoong was intentionally not talking to him. Why? How many times was Seonghwa going to have to guess why Hongjoong was mad at him? 

He sighed deeply, watching his partner’s back, “Kim . . . did I do something wrong?” 

For a minute there, he _had_ believed he’d done something wrong. Last night they hadn’t kissed—so there was no reason for Hongjoong to be upset. Unless he _had_ wanted to kiss. Though, there was no possible way the agent would ever want that. 

Hongjoong looked at him. And it probably wasn’t good, but Seonghwa felt like he could finally _breathe_. “Park . . . I—” He stopped to bite his lower lip, eyes unfocused, like he didn’t want to look at Seonghwa. 

“I did something, didn’t I?” He concluded. 

“No—! I . . .” Hongjoong stepped forward, voice coming out small. “It’s—it’s _my_ fault I’m acting this way . . .” 

What? 

None of that made any sense. Usually, fighting silently like this was because they’d bickered or gotten into a heated fight. They’d done neither in a long time, for the sake of this mission. What was Hongjoong saying? 

Seonghwa shook his head, “No, I did something, right? That’s why you’ve been avoiding me all day—” 

“I’m telling the truth, Park,” His partner brushed his wet hair back, cheeks flushed. He was either embarrassed or still hot from the shower. “I just—I just need time to _think_.” 

“Think?” 

“I need to think about . . .” Hongjoong’s words faded as he paced the room. He only ever did that when he wanted to brainstorm. But Seonghwa was his partner, so he had to tell him what was going on. 

Seonghwa, with this in mind, stopped Hongjoong by placing a hand on his shoulder, “You need to tell me what’s happening, Kim.” 

Hongjoong still couldn’t meet his eyes. Instead, he shook Seonghwa off to continue his pacing. Which was a bad idea because then Seonghwa grabbed him by both shoulders and spun him around, until they were both facing one another. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” He repeated. 

His partner panicked. “Park . . .” 

“You’re not sick, right?” Seonghwa placed a hand atop Hongjoong’s forehead, regarding the way the man grew more flushed beneath his touch. “Are you running a fever? Let me check—” 

“N-no, that’s not it—” He pushed Seonghwa away, “I just—I want to know why you’re being so gentle.” 

Seonghwa was at a loss for words, “Excuse me?” 

At long last, Hongjoong grew angry, “You’re being too nice to me! I thought we hated each other.” 

This was far from what Seonghwa had imagined. Was that the only reason why Hongjoong had been acting so weird and distant? 

“You’re not making any sense right now, Kim.” Seonghwa said truthfully. 

“I know!” Hongjoong left him to stand in front of the window again. “I thought we held a mutual dislike between us. I _thought_ this wouldn’t work out and yet I’m starting to _like_ y—” He cut himself off short, clamping his mouth shut before proceeding to say, “I like . . . I like how we used to be.” 

Seonghwa, confused, replied, “You want me to revert back to arguing with you 24/7. Is that it?” 

“Maybe I do.” Hongjoong frowned. “Maybe it’s best for the both of us.” 

The tension in the room continued to thicken as the seconds went by. Outside, the snow fell, collecting on the porch. It was getting dark enough to allow them to see their reflections in the glass. Seonghwa couldn’t help looking at Hongjoong. 

_Please, look at me._

“Kim—” 

The agent brushed past him, but not before Seonghwa latched onto the man’s arm. 

“Kim, let me apologize if I’ve done something wrong.” 

Hongjoong turned to him, eyes glistening, like he was on the verge of crying. It tugged at Seonghwa’s heart once more, like it did yesterday, and the day before, and the days before that, even when he hadn’t paid attention to them—even when he _should’ve_ paid attention. 

He recalled one of their first missions, when they’d almost lost their lives. Hongjoong was suffering from hypothermia, and Seonghwa had panicked so hard over the thought of losing his partner, he almost broke down. They were being hunted by a sniper, and he’d been attacked earlier with a knife, which meant his body was weaker from the cold and loss of blood. 

But all of that hadn’t mattered as much, not when Hongjoong was there, curled in on himself and very still, not shaking anymore because he was at his limit, almost gone. That was the first time he’d ever said _Seonghwa_. Ever since then, he’d only called him _Park_. 

Rivals or not, they were on the same side. The bickering and fighting was part of the package, but he couldn’t help but think those were ways he distracted himself from giving in to what he really felt. He’d always denied the idea of relationships, he practically repelled them by becoming a raven. It made his spy life easier. And seeing his partners, seeing _Hongjoong_ almost die—Seonghwa knew he couldn’t handle losing anyone important to him. 

_Was Hongjoong important?_

His grip slipped from the smaller man’s wrist to his hands, fingers finding the cold ring he’d given him days ago. Hongjoong shifted, but kept his hand out for Seonghwa to hold. 

_Yes, he was always important._

“Kim, I need to tell you something—” He started. 

Hongjoong took his hand back, “No . . . no, let me be alone.” 

“Kim—” 

The agent abandoned his spot to open their bedroom door. Half-inside, he halted for a moment to ponder over something, before leaving and slamming the door behind him. 

Seonghwa only looked on. 

There was nothing to do. Nothing, other than let Hongjoong go. Deep inside he knew it was for the best. Keeping these newfound revelations hidden was better for them both, especially for Hongjoong. Seonghwa didn’t want to burden the man with these feelings—not when he knew how much Hongjoong disliked him. 

They would never work, and Seonghwa wouldn’t dwell on it. He was a professional agent, a raven with loads of history regarding fake relationships. He could do this. 

Strangely, he found that his arm was still outstretched, reaching for Hongjoong. Beneath their artificial bedroom light, his ring shined. 

There was nothing he could do— 

Nothing. 

The only thing he _could_ do was let Hongjoong go.

# ________

He totally fucked things up. First, he’d almost outed himself by revealing the fact that he liked Seonghwa. Thankfully, it seemed as if the older hadn’t caught onto it at the time. Second, he was acting flustered, which wasn’t characteristic of him. He was usually poised, professional—but during their short feud, he thought he was going to burst. 

Of course this was one-sided. Of course this was stupid. Hongjoong just _had_ to go and develop these feelings for an agent he’d been rivals with for years. A man, who, was also a notorious raven that flirted with everyone who had classified information. 

Why had he let the small things get to his head? Now that Hongjoong was the subject of Seonghwa’s fake desires, those raven-techniques were messing with his usual progress. 

It wasn’t fair! 

He didn’t want this. If anything, he wanted to abandon these feelings. What good were they to him? He wouldn’t benefit from them, thus they weren’t needed. 

Hongjoong repeatedly told himself that, and all the while he questioned why he started and _when_. Was it something that had just built up slowly over the years? That seemed like the most likely case. 

But why hadn’t he noticed it sooner? Then maybe he could’ve stopped feeling this way long ago, before it could grow into . . . into _this_. 

He raked his freezing fingers through his fringe, fisting his hands in his hair when he momentarily thought about what he did back in the cabin. He’d basically stormed out. They’d been arguing over something as trivial as miscommunication. Hongjoong couldn’t have outright told Seonghwa what was bothering him. It was impossible for him to ever tell the man the truth. 

He half-wished he could stay out all night, to avoid the raven. In any other location, that would’ve been fine. But in Norway, it was out of the question. It was nearing evening, and they’d wasted a full day because of Hongjoong and his feelings. It was his fault that they were lagging. He _hated_ wasting time. 

Also, it was freezing outside and all he’d taken with him was a wool sweater and a pair of jeans. The boots weren’t of any help too, not when he’d simply put them on in his escape without socks. In other words, he was going to become a human popsicle if he stayed out there for any longer. His hair was practically hardening with ice. 

“Fuck,” He said below his breath, stopping by a tree not too far from their cabin. It was around the same place they’d met Yeosang for the first time. 

Hongjoong scoured the area, remembering the day they’d come to this island. Back then, he was sure they wouldn’t work out. Still, he wasn’t positive when it came to the outcome of this mission. But since they were alive and not dead quite yet, he had to have some sort of hope. 

Giving up entirely, he sat himself on a low rock, observing the horizon. It was a beautiful place, very unfortunate for it to be tainted by the drug ring that dominated it’s shores. 

If Jongho hadn’t shown up and told them of the drug, then Hongjoong and Seonghwa could’ve fallen victim to it unknowingly. In what form would it derive from anyway? He’d guessed it wasn’t entirely chemicals. It had to be plant-based. 

He thought this over carefully, keeping in mind the sunset on the horizon. The winter season meant shorter days. Darkness was enveloping them at a fast rate. 

From afar, a twig snapped, alerting him. 

Hongjoong whipped around so fast, he stumbled. He’d forgotten that the snow grew slippery from the afternoon sun. He had known that for some time, but the noise distracted him enough to make him panic. 

Uncomfortably, he landed on his ass in the nearby ivy that he’d witnessed when they arrived. It was spiky, digging into his tough jeans and penetrating his skin underneath. 

His eyes surveyed the area one more time quietly, and when he noticed that no presence was there and that he was in the clear, he returned to escaping from the bush. “Ouch, ouch—” 

He couldn’t use his hands without grazing them against the thorns. If Seonghwa was correct, then it was probably poison ivy. But was poison ivy native to Norway? He wasn’t feeling itchy. That was good. Maybe this was just a weed? 

Whatever it was, it hadn’t done anything yet that screamed danger. His senses assured him of it, though he was still uncertain about that noise he heard. 

In the last remaining remnants of light, he eyed the forest and found nothing. He definitely was alone, now, at least. Something could’ve been watching him earlier. 

He rolled out of the huge bush, landing in a heap of freshly fallen snow. His jeans were totally ripped apart at that point, but his wool sweater stayed intact, keeping his upper body warm. He so didn’t want another episode of hypothermia. Dealing with Seonghwa sounded better than that. 

Gingerly, he rose, dusting himself off and lifting his hands to see the streaks of pink that stained his palms. He was bleeding, not that much, but enough to make his partner worried. 

Damn, was he an idiot? 

Hongjoong literally fell on his ass in a bush that looked like poison ivy. Didn’t Hongjoong have the best reflexes in the agency? Fortunately, no one was there to see him fall. 

Unless that twig had been broken by someone stalking him. He couldn’t dismiss the idea of that. 

Could it have been a guest? A member of the drug organization? Or Seonghwa—? 

His body felt rigid as he thought back to his partner. Gradually, he shook off the feel of those thorns to turn back in the direction of the cabin, hands tucked under his sweater to fight off the cold. 

Only— 

The cold was slowly starting to dwindle away.

He ignored it, mainly because that was what hypothermia did. He hadn’t been out for long, though. Not enough to feel the symptoms of it. Right? He wasn’t a doctor, but a stroll through the cold for less than a few minutes was hardly enough to induce hypothermia. 

His legs shook as he trudged forward, eyes focused on his cabin a few feet away. His vision was becoming blurry. 

“Not hypothermia again,” He said to himself, “Please not again.” 

Hongjoong leaned on a tree, breath coming out heavy. It was hot. It had gotten so hot in only a few seconds. Why? What was happening? 

Shakily, he pressed a cold hand to his forehead, like Seonghwa had done earlier. It surprised him when the raven did that. He’d avoided him solely to stay far from him, so that Hongjoong wouldn’t be tempted. That hand was soft, caressing him like he was glass. That same hand slid down his body, along his jeans, threatening to take them off. It was tempting now, to go back and kiss and—

He gasped at his own thoughts. They weren’t his own. They just popped up because he was feeling too hot. It was too hot and his breathing was becoming ragged. 

Oh. 

_No._

“Seonghwa,” He called, but it was useless. How could his partner hear him? But he needed help. Hongjoong needed his help ASAP. 

This wasn’t hypothermia, and that plant wasn’t poison ivy. 

It was . . .

# ________

It was snowing heavily. Seonghwa was starting to get worried over whether or not Hongjoong was okay. The man had left without a proper sweater and with wet hair. 

Seonghwa was close to the wide window, breath creating a condensation so that he couldn’t see himself in the glass. He hadn’t turned the heater on inside the cabin, so it was somewhat cold, causing his teeth to chatter. 

He almost worried his lips to the point of bleeding, until the bedroom door swung open loudly, catching his attention instantly. It was Hongjoong. 

“Where have you been?” He walked over to him fast, unawarely fast. He’d just been so worried. “It’s freezing cold out there and—wait, wait are you _bleeding_?” 

Hongjoong stared at him dejectedly, face pink, turning redder as the seconds went by. “I fell into a fucking bush, Park, don’t laugh at me—” 

But Seonghwa was far from laughing. He dropped down to his knees, examining the fresh holes in the mans’ jeans. They were ripped, poorly, with a few stray needles still sticking to the heavy material. It looked painful. Hongjoong didn’t look scared that he was bleeding, though. 

He knew it was a bad idea. Arguing on a day when the weather was not cooperating. He shouldn’t have let him go in the first place. 

“How?” He questioned. 

Hongjoong smacked his hand when Seonghwa tried to pry the needles off of him. “Don’t touch them.” He scolded, and then continued with, “I felt like someone was watching me, so I lost my footing and fell.” 

“Let me help you—” Seonghwa tried reaching for him again, but was stopped. 

His partner gave him a look of defeat, brows knitted together in worry. The bleeding wasn’t what he was worried about. Those cuts would heal gradually. No, there was something else preoccupying him. 

Hongjoong pushed him back, causing Seonghwa to fall to the floor. “Stay away, Park, _please_.” 

“Kim, why . . .?” He tried searching his face for an answer. There was nothing there. 

“Just—just stay back. I don’t want to get you involved—” Hongjoong winced at something painful that Seonghwa couldn’t see. The agent staggered, grabbing onto the wall. It wasn’t noticeable at first, but the smaller man was quivering. 

Seonghwa got up gradually, taking in the appearance of his partner. 

Something was really wrong. 

“What . . . happened?” He said, voice low. “Why aren’t you telling me?” 

Hongjoong shook his head, bangs falling into his eyes. Seonghwa wanted to go up to him and push his hair back, to ask him what he could do to help. 

“I think—” Hongjoong swallowed hard, “I think the plant I fell into is making me . . . strange . . .” 

Seonghwa felt like his heart had dropped to his stomach. 

_Fuck_. 

The _aphrodisiac_. 

“What?” He hadn’t known how tense his limbs were. He was _scared_, but not as scared as how his partner felt. He knew that now. “Was it—” 

“The one we saw when we first got here. Yeah.” Hongjoong answered for him, tumbling forward. 

Seonghwa ran to catch him in time, holding him carefully up. The man was warm, too warm, like he had a fever. He didn’t know if it was due to the plant or the fact that he’d been outside for long. Even the blush on his face was difficult to discern. It could’ve been a culmination of everything he’d been through outside. 

Hongjoong laid his head on Seonghwa’s shoulder, nose pressed to his shirt collar, “_Park_,” He whispered, pushing against him but failing, “Actually . . . I think I . . . need your help . . .” 

His eyes widened at the agent’s plea. There was a problem there. He knew what to do in the presence of someone who was under the influence of an aphrodisiac. He was trained for this, he had experience in this. He wanted to _help_ Hongjoong get out of this. But the only way to do that was— 

“I want to help you, Kim, I really do but—I won’t do anything unless you ask me with a clearer head,” He moved his grasp onto Hongjoong’s arms instead, steadying him on the wall so that they could look each other in the eye. “Do you realize what you’re saying?” 

After a pause, Hongjoong’s expression grew angry. His breathing was so heavy, Seonghwa could feel it. “I’m alert enough right now to know what I _need_, Park, but I may not be stable in a few minutes so—” He took him by the shirt forcefully, “_Help me_. It fucking _hurts_.” 

By ‘it’, Seonghwa knew he could only mean _that_. 

He couldn’t directly tell though, not with Hongjoong’s pants in tatters. If those spikes were tainted with that aphrodisiac, then he needed to get them off. 

How? It was simple. But this was Hongjoong, and they’d only ever kissed. Seonghwa had played with the idea of taking their actions further, but never confidently. Hongjoong intimidated him, and not because he was capable of killing him, no—it was because he was someone of Seonghwa’s secret desires. 

It sprouted recently. Still, there was no way he’d wanted to be so quick about it. This was _not_ how he planned things, though there was nothing he could do. Hongjoong wanted his help, and Seonghwa was going to do his best to expel the pain he was currently undergoing. 

Feelings or not, he had to put them to the side, for the one he cared about the most. 

Damn, he really was soft, wasn’t he? 

“Take your pants off.” He ordered. 

Hongjoong, even in the middle of such a dangerous situation, managed a short snort, laughing at him. “Is that what you tell all of the people you take to bed, Park?” 

“Goddamnit Kim you are literally under the influence of a powerful aphrodisiac,” Seonghwa banged on the wall with his arm, caging the smaller agent in one corner of the room. “Please take this seriously.” 

The kabedon had some effect, since Hongjoong nodded with a, “Yessir.” 

He sighed. 

Yes the drug was slowly easing Hongjoong into a state of calm, but that didn’t mean he was in the clear yet. Usually, it worked in steps. First, the person would feel hot and would continue to feel as such until the end of it. Second, they’d start to feel extreme pain. Thirdly, dizziness would ensue, and then eventually unconsciousness for about an hour or so. Seonghwa didn’t know the symptoms of _this_ particular drug though. He was basically recounting his own firsthand experiences. 

In all truth, he was extremely fortunate and glad to have had previous circumstances in regards to this. 

Hongjoong, for the last minute, stared at him like he was trying to see what Seonghwa was thinking of. Which wasn’t good because he had to start, to get it done and over with. 

The agent tapped the wall with the back of his head as he squirmed to get the tight jeans off, managing to unbutton the top button, and then slide the zipper down with shaky fingers. Seonghwa couldn’t help him, not without getting indirectly pricked by the thorns. 

“Shit,” Hongjoong cursed as he brought the rest of his pants down, exposing his legs to the cool air. He stopped to catch his eye, and when he noticed that Seonghwa was nonchalant, he continued to slip the garment off the rest of the way, throwing it to some far part of the room, where neither of them could accidentally touch it. 

It would’ve been better if he’d turned the heater on, but now that he knew Hongjoong was feeling unusually hot, it was best if he didn’t. 

The rough material of the wall scraped his hands as he brought them down to his partner’s level. “Kim—” 

“Take my shirt off,” He said sarcastically, “I _know_.” 

Hongjoong lifted his sweater up and off in one simple sweep, tossing it over Seonghwa’s shoulder. Either the drug was making him more daring than usual, or he was just altogether fed up with the entire thing. 

Consequently, Seonghwa couldn’t help the look of surprise on his face at seeing how cooperative his partner was being, despite the previous days of protests and fighting. 

“ . . . okay.” He said, watching the man’s form. It wasn’t new. He’d seen Hongjoong almost naked before. They _had_ been through tortuous situations (literal torture, literally). But never had he stopped to _see_. 

As the agent continued to quiver, holding himself with his arms, Seonghwa eyed the expanse of toned muscles on the man’s stomach. They were better than his, which wasn’t a shock since Hongjoong was an expert in combat, but—damn, it made him jealous. 

He stopped himself from tracing the lines of Hongjoong’s tiny waist with his eyes, coughing to disrupt the heat that had collected between them. He was still holding Hongjoong against the wall. 

“Park,” His partner abruptly lost his footing, causing Seonghwa to catch him _again_. Okay, the bed sounded like a safer place for them. 

Scooping up the smaller man, he made his way to their shared bed and set him gently onto the clean, warm sheets, keeping in mind what a mess they were about to make. 

“Kim, listen to me,” He kneeled in front of him, ignoring the visible tent in the man’s boxers. It must’ve been painful. “Give me a safe word—” 

“Mist.” Hongjoong said quickly. 

That was fast. 

“ . . . then we’ll go with _mist_ I guess.” Seonghwa untied his shoes and kicked them off, all the while keeping an eye on Hongjoong to see if he was doing okay. The man’s breathing was heavy, it’d been heavy for the length of time they’d talked. His cheeks were still rosy too, and there was visible sweat growing on his brow. 

Then all of a sudden, the younger took him by the collar with both hands and leaned forward whilst Seonghwa unbuttoned the last of his shirt. He smelled sweet. “Park, I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to—” 

Seonghwa took the opportunity to seal those unsaid words with a chaste kiss, echoing the events of their first. Hongjoong’s mouth wasn’t weary like last time, no, it was pliant. 

The man straddled him as Seonghwa moved onto the bed, pecking at his lips like he was some vital source of water. _God_, this was what Seonghwa had wanted, but it felt like it was Hongjoong who’d wanted it more. 

“_Park,_” Hongjoong murmured when they separated for a fraction, breath ghosting over his, “It hurts . . .” 

Seonghwa looked to the man’s boxers and placed his fingers atop the prominent bulge, causing Hongjoong to gasp. “What do you want me to do?” He whispered in his ear as his partner’s hips surged up into his hands, seeking that friction, “I’ll do anything for you—” 

“Touch me,” His voice was small, arms tightly around Seonghwa’s neck, “Please _touch me already_.” 

He did as he was told. 

Without warning, he took the boxers and ripped them open. Easier than having Hongjoong get off of him. If he wasn’t careful, he would choke Seonghwa unknowingly with that grip. 

With icy fingers he took the man’s length, observing just how _wet_ he already was with the symptoms of that drug, tip beading with precum as the seconds went by. He ran his hand down the shaft loosely, hearing the short whines of his partner as he did so. 

“Park—” He choked on the name, and instead bit at Seonghwa’s shoulder to stop from speaking. His body trembled, growing hot. 

Seonghwa twisted his wrist, eliciting another gasp and letting go as he reached over to the nearest drawer by the bed, feeling for a bottle. Come on, this was a resort for couples, there _had_ to be some lube and condoms— 

Well, his instinct was correct. He grabbed as many items as he could feel and threw them to the bed, taking the lube and popping it open, slathering it on his fingers before wrapping them around his partner’s aching cock once more. 

Hongjoong pressed his thumbs to Seonghwa’s neck, mouth trailing his collarbone with hot breath, “Park . . . _Seonghwa_ . . .” 

Oh.

That was hot. 

And totally unexpected. 

He nipped at the man’s sensitive skin below his ear, causing Hongjoong to groan. Wasting no time, he worked him into a rhythm, sliding his hands up his partner’s heat in time to flick at the tip, holding him as he shuddered. 

It would probably be quick. His reactions revealed just how sensitive he was to every mere touch. 

“_Faster_ . . .” He breathed into the crook of Seonghwa’s neck, leaving goosebumps on his cool skin. Was this the same Kim Hongjoong that repeatedly made it known how much he disliked Seonghwa? If yes, then why hadn't he ever seen this side of him? He figured that no matter how much seducing he did, Seonghwa wouldn't ever have the chance to see this. 

Seonghwa had slowed to push Hongjoong back onto the bed, taking the nearest condom and opening the sealed package with his teeth. Hongjoong watched him as he did so, breaths coming out short and heavy. His face indicated he was slightly disappointed that Seonghwa had stopped jerking him off. Yet _another_ thing he never imagined they'd do. 

He overlooked this to squeeze even more lube onto his hand, considering the fact that Hongjoong was already in pain. He didn’t want his partner to experience any more. And since they hardly prepared, _hadn’t_ prepared in their days there (they really wasted their time arguing, hadn’t they?), Seonghwa wanted him to feel better, not worse. This just _had_ to be the most stressful sex he'd ever undergone. 

Hongjoong gasped when Seonghwa began to work his fingers inside him. He was tight, not surprising there, he could only fit a finger first until Hongjoong relaxed around him. “Kim . . .” His breathing was becoming hoarse too. “How do you feel . . .?” 

The agent tossed his head back, fingers grasping at the sheets. It was hardly a response, but it was enough for Seonghwa to know he didn’t need to stop. 

After three fingers, he slipped out. Hongjoong’s lips downturned at the lack of their contact. Seonghwa, from what he knew, had to stay beside Hongjoong to lessen the discomfort. It varied, but he wasn’t sure how long this intoxication would last. 

He crept over Hongjoong, caging him in on the bed to catch his lips, tilting his head at a better angle to deepen the kiss further. He was wet, almost drooling when they released for air. Hongjoong bit at Seonghwa’s lower lip, eyes lidded, “Take your pants off and fuck me already, Park, it’s _painful_.” 

Hongjoong unbuttoned Seonghwa’s pants, sliding his zipper down. Seonghwa was already hard, throbbing at that point after seeing Hongjoong in such a state—hair slicked to his forehead, cheeks and shoulders inflamed pink. It was unlike anything he ever saw from Hongjoong. His usual raven-composure was beginning to crumble, but he had to hold out. It was safer that way. 

“Okay, baby, shh—” Seonghwa took his pants off quickly when he saw that Hongjoong was starting to tear up, eyes turning red and brimming with water. He didn’t know where that pet name came from, but it emerged naturally. “Don’t cry—I got you, okay?” He cupped his partner’s face, dripping words of praise into his ear, “You’re doing so well—” 

Hongjoong slipped his arms around Seonghwa’s shoulders, holding him there. As if acknowledging the mutual silence between them, it seemed like, for a split second, his feelings were heavily present. 

He really, absolutely loved Hongjoong. And it didn’t even need to be in a romantic-sense, but also in a sense that—they were partners, for a good majority of their lives. They were also dependent on each other, they depended on each other for everything, even through their dislikes and hates and arguments. 

Seonghwa took the condom he’d thrown to the side earlier and slipped it over his own length, coating it in lube as he stroked himself, biting the inside of his mouth. He eyed the way Hongjoong shifted when Seonghwa pressed the tip to his entrance, “Hwa, _please_ . . .” He begged, knees squeezing Seonghwa’s sides desperately. 

With cold fingers he brought Hongjoong’s thighs up, cock penetrating deep inside him, “Kim, _fuck_.” If he wasn’t careful, he would come just as fast with how tight Hongjoong was. 

The man tugged at Seonghwa’s hair, back arching beautifully as he whimpered, “Seong—_ah_ . . .” 

“Baby I got you~” He repeated into the younger’s neck, nose tracing the elegant outline of his jaw. Hongjoong practically melted in his hold whilst Seonghwa pulled out and brought himself back in, excruciatingly slow, milking him out into a mewling mess. “Just tell me what you need . . .” 

His skin prickled in pleasure as he swooped down to plant a kiss to Hongjoong’s open mouth, teeth grazing his lips until they were both swollen and red. It was pretty evident in the way Hongjoong liked his kisses—rough, to the point where Seonghwa could taste the salt of his own blood. 

He didn’t mind it at all. It was sexy. With that, Seonghwa dared to quicken his pace, digging his nails sharply into the man’s hips, inciting a cry. 

Embarrassed, Hongjoong bit his lips shut, until Seonghwa swiped a tongue across his pretty mouth, “Make as much noise as you want, baby, it’s okay—let me hear you.” 

Hongjoong pouted, making Seonghwa’s heart clench. Dammit he was _so_ cute. “_Seonghwa_ . . .” 

“Hongjoong,” The name tumbled out of his lips without a second thought. It felt so good to say it. Strange, but good. He could get used it, but only if Hongjoong was okay with that. “Come for me, baby.” 

It was insanely hot now, he could feel a bead of sweat running down his temple. Hongjoong was feeling warmer as well, feverish, skin a great contrast from his own. 

Seonghwa took hold of Hongjoong’s abandoned cock to stroke him languidly, thrusting in time to match the younger’s weaker rocking, searching for that sweet spot that made Hongjoong keen, and hitting it repeatedly, over and over again as needy cries fell from Hongjoong’s parted lips. 

Pleasure was slowly starting to pool in his stomach, and from what he could make out of Hongjoong’s incoherent moans, he too was almost there. 

Hongjoong let go of the sheets to take Seonghwa by the neck, voice scratchy, “_Hyung_ . . .” 

Seonghwa was already seeing stars, but that was enough to take him over the edge. He came inside Hongjoong, hard. His partner squirmed at the sensation, falling back onto the pillows. 

He calmed his racing heart, relaxing enough to give Hongjoong a few more strokes until he too spilled out over their stomachs with a short whine, knees buckling and body going limp. 

Before he could even think, Seonghwa drew Hongjoong into an embrace, flush against him as he held the back of his head to leave a trail of faint kisses to his forehead, his lips and jaw, murmuring words of praise, “Joong, you did so well, so perfect—” 

Hongjoong nodded sleepily, the corners of his eyes dripping with tears, “Hwa . . . I’m . . . sorry,” His breathing was ragged. “I’m so sorry . . .” 

Seonghwa silenced him, kissing at the wet marks that stained his face, “Don’t be sorry, baby, it's not your fault—I loved it. I love y—” 

_You_. 

He stopped himself in time to register those unspoken words. 

He was in an emotional high. This was a moment where he had to think before he said anything. He couldn’t outright say something like that, considering the consequences of it all. 

The feel of their rings was cool on their hot temperatures, helping him recall their surroundings. Hongjoong nestled his head on Seonghwa’s chest, fingers gingerly bringing him closer. He was drowsy with sleep. 

And, wow, he was beautiful. Seonghwa nearly forgot he hadn’t pulled out yet, not when he was too busy admiring the blush that had grown over the bridge of Hongjoong’s nose. 

“Joong, I . . .” He started, but was late. 

Hongjoong’s hold weakened. He fell asleep, leaving Seonghwa to save those words for later. But that was the thing—he didn’t know if there would _be_ a later. Not when he knew the cameras had caught everything they’d done. 

He didn’t care about that, though. Not now. Hongjoong had to rest, and Seonghwa was going to make sure he did. He was going to make sure that Hongjoong would be kept safe, healthy, alive, away from the drug ring and the leader and the dangers that it brought on. 

He was going to make sure of that. 

No matter what— 

No matter the consequences.

# ________

Hongjoong had never experienced such a deep sleep before, and frankly, he didn’t like it. His limbs felt heavy, his throat was completely dry, and the sweat that’d appeared earlier was making his skin stick to the sheets below him. 

In conclusion, he was _never_ going to help bust another drug ring in the future. He hadn’t recognized how painfully demanding it was going to be, and unfortunately, he still didn’t know just how much it was going to cost him. 

He awoke groggily to the sound of Seonghwa’s voice at his ear, tone raising as Hongjoong nearly went back to sleep. The drug was still messing with his head. 

How long had he been unconscious? 

And why did his body hurt so fucking much—? 

His eyes opened widely at his recent memories, and he got up quickly, regretting it afterwards. His lower back _hurt_, and his skin was covered in goosebumps. He just wanted to go back to sleep. 

“Kim,” Seonghwa shook his shoulder, bringing him to reality. He looked concerned, troubled even. “Kim, wake _up_—” 

Hongjoong took his arms weakly, indicating to his partner that he was somewhat awake, “Park . . .” His voice was cracking, throat hoarse. “What’s . . . wrong . . .?” 

That was when he heard it too. 

The loud bang. 

It sort of sounded like a bomb going off, like, something had exploded not too far away from them. He didn’t know much about couple resorts, but he definitely knew that bombs weren’t a part of the vacation package deal. Unless they were fireworks? 

Hardly. Judging from the gunshots in the distance (he was all too familiar with _those_ sounds), it was exactly what he thought was occuring. Something or someone was causing a scene outside, and Hongjoong wasn’t physically able to get up and see for himself. 

He cursed under his breath, searching for something to wear until his partner threw a pair of sweatpants into his hands. The raven was already half-dressed and tugging on some snow boots. His jaw was set, face hardened as they both recognized that now was the time to begin the dirty part of their mission. 

Seonghwa reached into a drawer, bringing out a hidden cell phone and throwing that to him too, “Kim, call for backup—I’m going to investigate—” 

“Like hell you’re going out there alone.” Hongjoong rose from the bed, avoiding the screaming pain in his body. He wasn’t feeling well, but what could he do? He’d been through worse. “I’m _fine_ now, thanks to you . . .” He mumbled that last part, hoping his partner hadn’t heard him. 

“You need to conserve your strength, Kim,” Seonghwa brought a pair of converse to Hongjoong, “I can’t have you risking your life when you’re still—” 

Hongjoong took him by the chin, determination set in his features. He must have looked as tired as he felt, but he didn’t care. He was the muscle when it came to this duo. Seonghwa wasn’t the best in combat, so it was Hongjoong’s duty not to let him get killed. 

“I'm eternally grateful for what you did for me right now, but I swear if you tell me to stay behind one more time I’ll tie you to the bed.” He threatened. 

The raven stared at him for what felt like a long time. He had this look of urgency to him, like he was trying to tell Hongjoong something. Whatever it was, he never admitted it, and instead nodded in defeat. 

During that pause, Hongjoong felt the man’s fingers gripping onto his frame tightly, but then subsiding. It was easy to get scared in missions, even if you hardly knew your partner. With them though, it was harder, though it was never as hard as it was until now. 

Why? 

What had changed between them? 

The fact that they had sex changed a whole lot. A _whole_ lot. He couldn’t dismiss that. But when he looked even closer, he found that nothing had changed much, except for the fact that they finally opened their eyes to what was nagging at them for years. They _cared_ about each other. 

“I’ll be fine,” He told Seonghwa, letting him go to grab the phone. “I’m strong.” 

Seonghwa parted his lips, gaze falling to the floor. 

Things were happening too fast, it was making him worry. 

“I know, Kim.”

# ________

The small office was dark, lit only by the glow of a computer screen placed neatly in the center. The windows above provided some light, though the storm concealed most of the shine from the looming moon. 

He was alone, eyes travelling the length of the room until they landed on the lone figure standing beside the only desk and chair. The man was dressed in a nice suit and tie, hair parted in the middle. 

Jongho stuffed his hands in his pockets, relaxing at the sight of his temporary employer. He knew what he was, he’d known for a while, though there was never a good time to bring it up in conversation. The suspicions his hyungs had were correct. 

Yeosang smiled warmly at him, like he wasn’t the ring leader of this huge drug ring, “Do you feel betrayed?” 

He shook his head, stepping ever so close to the man until he was peering down at him. They were both tall, but Jongho had the small advantage of being an inch taller, “I would’ve been upset if you weren’t the one we’ve been searching for.” 

The man drew his fingers up Jongho’s shirt, unbuttoning the topmost button, “So you don’t hate me.” 

Shrugging, he took Yeosang’s hand, gripping it dangerously, “Depends on what you’re spending all this drug money on.” 

Yeosang raised a sharp brow at him, smile hinting at the corners of his mouth. Of course a criminal wouldn’t relay such secrets. But he didn’t seem to be afraid of telling Jongho everything. 

“I don’t like getting my hands dirty, but—” He revealed, letting Jongho take his wrist firmly, “Earning money in underhanded ways is much faster than playing it safe.” 

Jongho felt the man’s pulse. It was normal, calm. “So?” 

“So my plan from the beginning was to sell these rich nobodies a drug they’ll love,” He sat back, “Let your friends go when this is all over, give the money I earned to charity,” Yeosang slipped his free hand into his jacket pocket, bringing out what appeared to be an invitation packaged in a gold envelope, “And give you this as a parting gift.” 

Hesitant, he took the letter, eyes not wavering from the older, “For who exactly?” 

“For you, and nobody else.” He lifted himself from the desk, turning his back to Jongho. “Did you think you would capture me?” 

“No.” 

Yeosang looked at him, surprised, “What?” 

He shrugged for the second time, placing the invitation in his own pocket and patting it securely, “I’ll be happy spending the rest of my life chasing after you.” 

The suspect studied him quietly. It was a bizarre thing to say, Jongho knew that. He practically cringed after saying it aloud, but it wasn’t a lie. Yeosang was _fun_, and if all of Jongho’s missions could involve him in any way, then it would be worth the effort. 

He _was_ a spy. Seeking danger was part of the job description. Well, for him it was. 

“Go get San, Jongho. I’ll give you Wooyoung soon.” Yeosang told him. 

Jongho watched him depart, “How soon?” 

He stopped at the door, sending him one last glance, “After you save your partners, of course.” 

“And how soon will I get to see you again?” 

Yeosang exhaled, smile reappearing, “Soon.” He said. “Very soon.” 

And with that, he left.

# ________

It was _freezing_. 

Seonghwa had given him a jacket that was far bigger than Hongjoong’s size, which covered him all the way down to his knees. But the wind was persistent, and if he couldn’t locate San and Wooyoung soon, he would be in deep trouble. 

He ran up the side of the mountain, ignoring the flashing lights overhead in the trees, helicopters buzzing in the night sky as the stormy wind hit at his face. His fingers were frozen, frostbitten from the harsh environment, and he could hardly run, though it was worth it when he located the source of the explosion. 

Seonghwa had ran in the opposite direction, near the edge of the lake where their chief, Eden, had marked as their meetup spot. Reinforcements would take a while to get to where they currently were, but it was worth a shot. If any of them were in critical condition, they would probably (probably?) have a chance at surviving. 

The sound of bombs was what had him feeling nervous. He knew San was an expert in that field, and he’d seen the man in action before, using explosives to escape and etc. 

If that was indeed San who’d caused it, then that meant he was _alive_, and hopefully with Wooyoung. 

Hongjoong stopped to swerve behind a large tree, back hitting the rough wood as he hid from a group of armed men running down the mountain. Their flashlights trailed the beaten road, allowing Hongjoong a good sight of where they were headed. 

Everyone would gather at the lake. It was the best possible means of escape. He only hoped Seonghwa hadn’t disobeyed his orders. He needed the raven to meet with Eden and send reinforcements up to where the bomb was heard. If not, then that would mean he’d have to take care of not only Seonghwa, but possibly injured agents at the top of the mountain. 

He abandoned his spot to climb the stone stairway that led up to the main cabin of the resort. The place where they held most of their therapy sessions. He could see the gym from where he stood, which made him recall that they weren’t alone. 

_Jongho_. 

Their newest recruit was at the resort as well, but where? 

He turned frantically, searching for any signs of life anywhere. He could hardly see anything, what with the snow heavily raining atop him and wind lapping at his figure. His breath was coming out in long white puffs, obstructing his vision. 

Then, two figures emerged from the brush, one limping. Hongjoong narrowed his eyes to get a better look, sighing in relief when he recognized the familiar forms of his juniors. 

He sprinted to them, almost slipping on a slope when San grabbed onto him. Jongho was at his side, keeping him up with one arm while holding his waist with another. Neither were wearing anything suitable for the winter storm. They were completely vulnerable. 

“Shit,” Hongjoong took San’s head in his hand, breath hitching at the warm slide of blood on his palm. He was bleeding, slowly but surely. “Here, Sannie, stay with me—” He took the lower part of his shirt and ripped it, using the excess fabric to wrap it tightly around the younger’s head. 

Jongho held him up as Hongjoong aided him, “Hyung, he escaped using explosives,” He explained, “I had to haul him out of the rubble and that took some time—” The youngest’s voice was urgent, “We have to go _now_—” 

“Wooyoung . . .” San shook his head, “We need to . . . find Wooyoung . . .” 

“We’ll find him,” Hongjoong sent Jongho a look of reassurance, “I promise—” 

“And I’ll keep my own promise.” A voice disrupted. 

All three turned in the direction of the new presence. Two new people, actually, at the foot of the stairwell. 

Hongjoong pushed his young partners behind him, arms covering them protectively. Below his line of sight, Yeosang was watching them calmly, hand on Wooyoung’s shoulder. A helicopter flew close, which must’ve been his means of escape. They wouldn’t be able to catch him this time. 

He continued, unwavered, “I need to give you back Wooyoung, right?”

# ________

Seonghwa was running back in the direction where he last saw Hongjoong. It was stupid to separate. They should’ve stayed together. It was safer. 

But they were spies. Nothing they did was safe. And truth be told, it was starting to irk him in ways he never thought possible. 

He couldn’t face Eden. Not in that moment. He had to find Hongjoong. That was his first priority. When Seonghwa had watched a string of armed men making their escape on the boats below, he knew that something was wrong. 

The leader of this drug ring liked to stay hidden, and so they would never risk being caught in such a place as a lake teaming with agents. No, the leader would stay at the top of the mountain to make an escape, but not without someone like a sniper in the distance just in case things went dire. 

Seonghwa thought over this a million times in his head, which wasn’t good because he was probably just making himself worry over nothing. Eden would find them eventually, and Hongjoong was a great tracker, as well as a great fighter. Seonghwa had faith in him, and his partners. 

He slid under the cover of a boulder when he noticed a man dressed in black gear, hiding at the rear of the hill where a full view of Hongjoong, Jongho, San, Wooyoung and— 

“Yeosang?” He said to himself, covering his mouth when he remembered the man nearby. 

It _was_ a bodygaurd. And he _was_ holding a loaded rifle. Would the leader risk such a move? 

Seonghwa switched his attention from the sniper to Hongjoong, who was holding back their partners in an attempt to keep them safe. But from where Seonghwa was, Yeosang wasn’t holding anything visibly dangerous, and both of his hands were out, holding onto Wooyoung like they were friends. 

He didn’t sense a threat there. The biggest threat he sensed was the man who was holding a rifle at Hongjoong. That was a big _no_. 

Silently, Seonghwa crept up to the sniper, closing their distance. Stopping huge men with guns wasn’t his forte, but he had to do something to prevent him from shooting at his partners. 

“Give him back,” Hongjoong raised his own gun at Yeosang. That was the concealed gun they were supposed to use only in extremely bad situations. “Now.” 

Yeosang gave Wooyoung a small push in their direction, setting him free. “I would appreciate it if you dropped the gun.” 

“Hyung—” Wooyoung gingerly stepped up the stairs and into San’s awaiting arms, panicked, “I’m okay. Please don't shoot him—” 

Hongjoong wavered where he stood, gun faltering. 

Out of all of them, it was Seonghwa who knew what was going on. Hongjoong was still under the effects of the drug. He was probably experiencing a relapse. 

The sniper, unaware of this, positioned himself when he saw that Hongjoong was trembling, gun pointed sloppily at the ground. 

The suspect, Yeosang, remained as neutral as ever, not seeming the least bit afraid of the gun in front of him. He too by now recognized what was wrong with Hongjoong. 

“I can’t let you get away—” Hongjoong lifted his gun again, this time with a better aim. 

Seonghwa’s heart sank when he witnessed the sniper react to that. 

There was nothing else he could do to save his partner, unless . . . 

He left his hiding spot to alert the sniper to his presence, grabbing the masked man and his gun in time before he could hit Hongjoong. 

The sound of the shot made his ears ring, which was the least of his worries. The sniper pointed his locked and loaded gun at Seonghwa, knocking him down easily. He was done for. 

Seonghwa fell onto the snow below, waiting for the end. 

He still couldn’t hear anything, but if he could, he would’ve heard the second gunshot.

# ________

Hongjoong dropped his weapon when two shots fired in the forest to their right. He hadn’t seen it before, but as his vision came back, he could make out the slumped silhoutte of his partner on the floor and a second man running away, holding a rifle. 

_No_. 

_No, not—not Seonghwa—_

His breathing stopped. 

He didn’t care that Yeosang had left to jump onto an awaiting helicopter, nor did he care when Jongho tried to hold him back from seeing what had happened. 

There wasn’t anything he could hear or see other than Seonghwa who wasn’t moving. Those gunshots resonated in his head, alerting him to _danger_. 

Hongjoong scrambled to the treeline, leaving behind his young partners to fight his way through the thick brush to get to Seonghwa. 

He arrived after only a handful of seconds, but was too late. He’d _been_ too late already. 

The raven was on his knees, holding himself in a small clearing full of red snow. 

“Seonghwa,” His hands were shaking as he got down to look at him. He didn’t know what to do or how to help him. Seonghwa was trying to hide the fact that he’d been shot on his side. Hongjoong wasn’t a fool. He could see it clear as day. “Oh _fuck_—” 

Seonghwa staggered, coughing into Hongjoong’s shirt, “I’m fine . . .” 

“You’re not fine, Seonghwa, please,” Hongjoong pressed his hand to the wound, to stop the bleeding. It did nothing to help. “Oh my god, Seonghwa—” A string of warm tears fell from his face. He couldn’t help it. “This is my fault—” 

The raven knocked his head against Hongjoong’s, breath hoarse as he spoke, “Not your fault, Joong.” A trail of blood marked his chin from his mouth. “It’s not your fault.” 

Hongjoong held him, fingers fisting in his hair. His eyes were glassy, threatening to close as the seconds went by, “Seonghwa, stay with me—” He brushed back the raven’s bangs to reveal his face, “I’m so sorry, Hwa, please—you have to stay with me—” 

Seonghwa managed a tiny smile. 

It quite literally broke Hongjoong. 

“Hongjoong, listen,” His partner coughed once, and then twice. He needed emergency care _now_. “I need to tell you something.” 

“Tell me at the hospital.” Hongjoong ordered, holding him up as best as he could. The man needed to stay awake, or else— “We’re gonna get you out of here, Hwa.” 

“No, listen,” Seonghwa latched onto his arm, “Hongjoong, I don’t hate you.” 

“I _know_.” He repeated, “I know, Seonghwa, you told me—” 

“No, I—I love you, Joong. I’ve always loved you . . .” 

Hongjooong fought back a new wave of tears. He could hardly breathe. 

_I’m so sorry, Hwa_. 

He closed his eyes and let the tears fall. 

_I love you too_. 

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong brought him close, confessing, “I love you—I love you too—” 

When he opened his eyes, he saw that Seonghwa was gone. Unconscious. 

_No_. 

“No, Seonghwa—” He pleaded, laying him down onto the cold snow, “Wake up, Hwa,” He rested on him, hand covering the bleeding wound, “Please come _back_—come back to me—” 

Footsteps distorted the sounds of his pleas, and when Jongho arrived to pull him back, Hongjoong was blinded by the appearance of multiple flashlights pointed at him. Help had come.

His vision blurred for the umpteenth time. 

“Hyung, we have to go . . . hyung please . . .” Someone’s voice said, but he couldn’t make out who it was. There were other people telling him things. Things he couldn’t hear. 

“Hyung, you have to move—” Wooyoung was beside Seonghwa’s body. Everyone was moving slowly, as if in slow-motion, like time had stood still. 

Hongjoong kept his hold on his partner, not daring to let go. 

“I’m sorry . . .” He said, bringing his hand down to meet his Seonghwa’s, matching rings glinting in the blinding lights, “Hwa . . . I’m so sorry . . .” 

Then, he blacked out.

# ________

There was a slight problem that had taken place—no, there was a huge problem that had put his whole career at risk. The life of a spy was never easy, hardly likeable, but the pay was worth it at the end of the day, even if that meant putting your life on the line for something that probably wasn’t worthwhile. 

This case was the perfect definition as to why he should’ve thought his career path through before signing on to the job. There had been worse missions, so much that this simple drug bust couldn’t be compared. Though this was different, and it was all due to the tiny detail he’d forgotten to mention to his partner, Choi San. 

That important detail would have blatantly outed him as a sort of double agent, but only if he was certain Yeosang was a bad guy. He _wasn’t_. That was true, and Wooyoung would bet his life on it. His group of close friends, _best_ friends, were people he could trust wholeheartedly, and Yeosang fit perfectly in there. 

Wooyoung hadn’t _died_. No one died. Someone got hurt, but the trigger wasn’t pulled by Yeosang, so . . . 

Double agent or not, he would stand by his best friend’s side. 

Yeosang _wasn’t_ bad. He wasn’t. 

Wooyoung found himself staring at the blank white cieling of a hospital room. The brightness of the light hurt his eyes, blinding him. He covered his face, grumbling tiredly at how worn out he felt. His body was stiff, like he’d been asleep for days. 

That was possible. Usually after missions, he’d go into a deep sleep, preferring not to wake up until the next case file was thrown onto his messy desk. 

Field agents were never really ready to revert back to their normal lives. It was easier for him to just sleep it off, ignore the boring days and move on to another mission. 

Maybe that was why he liked helping out criminals. Being a double agent was his most guilty pleasure. 

He tugged at the wires taped to his wrist, all the while fighting the urge to not rip them off and alert the doctors. Hospitals were one of the worst things he hated. 

His eyes drooped, fatigued as he recounted what happened. 

The last time he was awake was back when they were in Norway, on that godforsaken mountain for that drug bust. Seonghwa had been shot, Yeosang escaped (thank goodness), Hongjoong was delirious, and San— 

Wooyoung gasped, cursing loudly. “Fuck.” 

How could he forget? 

San was injured, bleeding from the side of his head. He’d escaped using explosives, which was not recommended, and not to mention too dangerous. 

He checked the clock on the wall. An escape plan was needed if he wanted to leave the clutches of the hospital. Where would San be? Where would the agency put him? He knew he’d be in emergency care or— 

Impatient as always, Wooyoung jumped off the bed swiftly and made for the door, but not before freezing in place when he was stopped by a curtain concealing a second bed. 

“Woo . . .” Someone said from behind. 

As if telling him to stay, the wires checking his vitals kept him from leaving his own side of the room. There was someone else there with him, and he’d been too busy thinking of Choi San to notice. 

Wooyoung opened the curtain, breathing a sigh of relief. 

_San_. 

His partner was sitting up, hand rubbing at the bandage tied tightly to his head. Other than that, he looked healthy, safe. 

“Woo, are you okay—?” San was cut short by Wooyoung’s arms wrapping around him in a well-deserved hug, sparing no time in aimless chatter. 

Wooyoung climbed over the bed, to make sure that he was holding all of San close, to feel that he was as okay as he looked. And judging by how warm he was, Wooyoung knew that all was well. 

San patted his shoulder, rubbing his back, “I missed you.” 

There it was. The words he’d wanted to hear for so, so long. 

“I missed you too, Sannie,” Wooyoung took his face, squeezing it as his partner smiled back, exhibiting those dimples. “God, I missed you—” He pressed his nose to his, “And I’m sorry for betraying you.” 

“You didn’t betray me,” San flicked a thumb over his cheek, “You did what you had to do. I could never be mad at you, Woo.” 

Wooyoung jutted his lower lip out, unable to accept his forgiveness, but doing it anyway, “Me too.” He said, “I could never be mad at you, San.” 

They stayed like that, in that position as the ticking of the clock and sound of machinery drowned out their thoughts. This was nice. This was exceedingly nice. 

He released his unyielding hold on San, “Are you—are you okay?” He finally asked. He probably should’ve asked him before he’d decided to jump on top of him. Oops. “Did you get hit in any important areas?” Wooyoung scoured the wounds he could see. 

“The rubble managed to hit all the _right_ places.” He answered, wincing as Wooyoung poked at his head, “Nowhere too vital.” 

“Thank goodness.” He grinned, heart racing as San reciprocated his own smile. Wooyoung had to give him another hug, softer this time. 

He failed to remember that they weren’t on a mission anymore. They didn’t need to be a fake couple. They could be whoever they wanted. 

And he should’ve done this a long time ago, but there was never a good opportunity to take it—

Wooyoung locked their lips together, wasting no time. 

San, taken aback by the sudden action, eventually sighed into their kiss. 

Around them, the sound of the medical equipment beeped louder and at a more rapid pace as Wooyoung kissed him back, restlessly. 

Good. All was good in the world again.

# ________

Days passed, almost like a blur. Nothing stood out, nothing but the remnants of memories that were better off forgotten. This time, the trauma would sit with him for a while. 

He regarded the friendly sight of the office in the morning, the noises and smells of a busy day just starting off. The brewing coffee, the rush of interns and field agents getting ready for another mission. 

This was another typical day. 

Another day to force himself to move on. 

He stared at the wide desk before him, and at the man who was occupying it. Their chief, Eden, was professional and poised, divulging all that they’d uncovered during the mission. 

“The plant never could’ve grown here,” Eden explained, slipping a couple of documents across the desktop, “It isn’t native here, but it is in Norway, and various other countries.” He made sure Hongjoong was listening (he wasn’t), “The suspect was smart to genetically enhance the plant enough to make it into a strong aphrodisiac.” 

Hongjoong was particularly struck by that. “Is it not supposed to be powerful?” 

Eden, aware of what Hongjoong had gone through, replied, “Most, if not all aphrodisiacs, are harmless upon contact, but as we’ve witnessed, your encounter with the raw plant was extreme, to the point where medical care was mandatory.” 

Frightening, honestly. He never wanted to feel that way, ever. He was vocal about his future plans as an agent. He hated having drawbacks, but this was one he could bear. 

“The plant is illegal here in Korea, but not in Norway.” He pointed out, “The suspect is dangerously intelligent in this case. The modifications were made in order to let the plant grow in harsh, cold environments. That is most likely why it had such a strong effect on you.” 

Hongjoong rolled his eyes at his luck. “Wonderful.” 

“I’m letting Jongho track him. Soon, he’ll be out on his own solo mission, to find any leads as to where our suspect will go next.” The chief sounded proud at the youngest recruit’s success. “He’s done well.” 

There was nothing he could say. He agreed. Jongho was bright, smart and quick. He would find Yeosang in no time. There was no doubt about that. 

What was really bothering Hongjoong though, was that his own partner was not there beside him, where he should’ve been. 

Hongjoong dared to look at the empty chair next to his, the one where Seonghwa had sat in, when they both first got the news of this dreaded mission. 

Eden noticed his distractions, “Kim.” 

He brought his attention to his boss, “Yes, chief?” 

“A handsome donation from an unknown source was given to the largest hospital in Seoul.” Eden stood, “All of the medical expenses for Park Seonghwa have been covered too.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

“It means that the best doctors were sent in to treat him, by none other than the suspect of this entire case.” The chief crossed the threshold to peer out at the view of the office. “In other words, with this money, he’ll be fine. Park is strong.” 

Hongjoong couldn’t relax, not even with the words of his chief. 

Was Seonghwa fine? Was he really? He’d been shot fatally, and he’d lost a lot of blood. Any minute longer and he would’ve truly been gone. 

That was what scared him the most. If the team hadn’t showed up, Seonghwa wouldn’t have made it. Hongjoong _hated_ thinking about that. 

He gripped at the metal chair, “I hope so, chief.” 

Hongjoong hoped. But for how much longer? 

_For as long as I can_.

# ________

The ring on his finger grew tighter with each day, burning at his skin, to keep him thinking back to his partner still in the hospital, still in critical condition. 

He managed to ignore the pointed looks of his peers in the office. They were all wondering how Seonghwa was, but even Hongjoong didn’t know. No one at the hospital would tell him. 

And he hadn’t gotten permission to enter his room. It would’ve been pointless, if Seonghwa wasn’t responsive. But he didn’t care. Hongjoong wanted to see him. 

In the past, his attitude completely differed. He didn’t mind it when they were apart for weeks, months—now though, he _had_ to see his partner. 

Missions constantly sprouted injured agents, and Hongjoong had countless instances where his partners were hurt. On one too many occasions, they ended up like this. Hongjoong was no exception. He’d been shot as well. 

But this was the first time Seonghwa had been attacked so viciously, it was worrying. What made things worse was that they hadn’t caught the culprit either. He doubted Yeosang would even know who to find amid all the snipers who were detained. 

Hongjoong tapped at his desk, glaring at the blank computer screen in front of him. The paperwork after a mission was what usually tired him out the most, along with emotional exhaustion. It came in abundance. 

Tired, he spun his chair around, keeping in mind the late time displayed on the clock for all the employees to see. The office was dark, with only a few cubicles lit by lamps and computers, agents working late into the night. 

If this were any other day, he would’ve loved it. But the images of what happened those weeks ago wouldn’t leave, the sounds of gunshots— 

Not far from him, his other partners, Yunho and Mingi, exchanged quiet words with each other, hands interlocking, unaware of Hongjoong’s gaze. Mingi took Yunho’s sleeve and beamed at something Hongjoong couldn’t hear, while Yunho spoke animatedly to him. 

It was too sweet for his taste, but Hongjoong couldn’t complain, not when he loved them too much. Though he would've felt better if he could throw his stack of paperwork at them, or a stapler, to shatter the heartwarming scene. They _had_ to be flirting in the office, huh? Those two returned a few days ago in the wake of Hongjoong’s own messy mission. He was glad to see them healthy and _alive_. 

Still, what they had—it could never work with he and Seongwha, right? They couldn’t possibly develop a relationship after having such a deep rivalry. 

At first, Hongjoong played off his feelings and blamed them on the drug, but that could not account for the way he felt _before_, on that night after their last therapy session. 

No, what he felt was _love_. 

And what he felt when he saw Seonghwa dying was love too. There was no denying it now, but what the hell was he supposed to do about it? 

He thought back to what Seonghwa had said. 

_I’ve always loved you . . ._

Had he meant it? Or were those simply meaningful words he spouted during a time when he thought they would be his last? 

Hongjoong contemplated all of this, and in the end he agreed that they wouldn’t work out. Being rivals was what they knew. If they changed that, then things could go downhill quickly. They had to revert to their normal selves. To do that, he'd keep his distance. 

He loved Seonghwa. He _did_. Though sparing him the trouble of forming a complicated relationship was best for them both. 

If he was lucky, Seonghwa’s memory would disappear after he woke up, and that was _if_ he would wake up. 

His tears threatened to spill for the millionth time that day. So Hongjoong powered his computer off and grabbed his coat. 

If was going to cry, then he would do it outside, in the falling snow and streets lined in mounds of white. It was dead winter in Seoul, so no one would be out for a stroll. 

He could be alone.

# ________

The bar was bustling with life, packed in every corner of the place and filled on the dance floor. Downtown Seoul was known to be lively during the holidays, and this hotel was proving it in every way. 

The domed ceiling shined in glittering stringed lights, with a few large chandeliers glowing faintly, red and green streamers trailing on every hanging piece of light fixture there was. It was a good location to blend into, dressed in a red velvet tuxedo and hair slicked back, he looked the part. 

He wasn’t going to dance though, but he was going to drink. Speaking of—just at that moment, the bartender slid a drink his way. A dirty martini in a tall glass. 

They were right in the middle of the holiday season, and his birthday had come and gone like nothing. He’d wanted Eden to send him away, to take on another mission to help him forget about his last, but he was refused on the spot. 

And so he’d spent his birthday alone, ignoring the phone calls and emails altogether. He hadn’t taken a look at his phone in days. It was pointless. 

The live band stopped their music as he took a sip of his drink, eyes shutting at the sound of people chattering. 

If he couldn’t get a mission, then he would disappear. After a couple of months, Eden would recognize that he needed Hongjoong’s help, and eventually he’d come back. By that time, things would have settled. 

Hongjoong bit at the rim of the glass, nails scratching the surface of the wooden bar. He was too good of an agent to be on standby. The emotional pain he felt was temporary. He would move on, somehow. 

But who was he kidding? He still couldn’t move on. 

Frustrated, he signaled the bartender to make him another drink. This was starting to look like a long night. Might as well drink. It wasn’t like he had a mission to focus on. 

To his right, he could feel someone else brushing his elbow. Probably a partygoer who was too oblivious to notice how much Hongjoong didn’t want to be bothered. 

He downed his drink in one go, turning in his seat to move away from the intruder. He did _not_ want to deal with any drunkards. Why did he leave his apartment for this again? Oh, yeah, everything reminded Hongjoong of _him_. 

The bartender gave him a new drink, and then turned to the individual on his right, chin upturning silently to ask for an order. 

“Nothing right now, thank you.” 

Hongjoong listened to that voice as he took his own drink, bringing it to his lips before he halted. That voice, it was from someone he knew. Someone he knew all too well. 

Cautiously, he set his drink down, identifying the person who’d sat beside him. Yes, there he was. The one he hadn’t thought he would ever see again. 

“I'm sorry I missed your birthday,” Park Seonghwa fixed his bowtie nervously. He was wearing a nice suit too, velvet like Hongjoong's, but blue. “I didn't have time to get a gift—” 

He was stopped by Hongjoong’s light punch to the gut. Seonghwa opened his mouth, laughing at the pain but doubling over in his seat. Hongjoong didn’t feel the least bit bad about doing that. 

How was he even _there_? Wasn’t he supposed to be at the hospital recuperating? Wait, he’d just punched Seonghwa—was the wound healed enough? 

“Why the hell are you here and why didn’t you let me know you were out of the hospital? Don’t you know how worried I was?!” Hongjoong raised his voice so loud, people began to look at them. “You even took a bullet for me! _Twice_, if you count that mission in Russia! It's a stupid and risky habit and I will not tolerate it from you again.” 

Seonghwa supported himself on the bar, holding his side, “Nice to see you too.” 

Hongjoong put a hand over where he assumed the bullet wound was. If it hurt him still, then it needed more time to heal. He definitely had stitches, judging from the way his face contorted in mild pain. 

“Shit, are you okay?” He asked, trying to unbutton the suit jacket. 

Seonghwa nodded his head at him, “I’ll be fine, just—the bruises hurt.” 

He took this time to stare at the raven, to drink in as much as he could. He appeared fine, like he hadn’t been shot a couple weeks ago. 

Eden was right. The hospital had done a good job at taking care of him. He looked brand new, and just like the raven he always knew. 

His partner had his hair slicked back as well, with a single strand draped over his left eye. “See? I’m good as new.” 

Hongjoong wasn’t impressed, “You have to heal more, Park.” 

At the name, Seonghwa smiled sheepishly at him, “I thought we were on a first-name basis now.” 

“Since when?” Hongjoong returned to his drink, but he couldn’t take a sip, not since Seonghwa took his wrist, eyes penetrating. 

“Since you told me you love me, and since I told you that I love you.” The raven replied. “A lot has changed since we did that.” 

He sighed, “Park—” 

“Shall we dance?” Seonghwa interrupted, hauling Hongjoong away from the bar, as if he had no choice but to agree on dancing. “I think we should dance.” 

“Why the theatrics? We’re not undercover anymore.” 

“Doesn’t matter.” 

The older brought them to the middle of the room, beneath the wide spotlight of the biggest chandelier. Other couples were dancing, keeping to themselves as the music continued on. 

They had to slow dance, since the song was soft, beat thrumming gradually as his partner took his left hand, raising it and allowing Hongjoong to place his fingers delicately on his arm. 

Seonghwa slipped his hand around Hongjoong’s waist. It was only for a split-second, but he saw that the raven hadn’t taken off their shared rings. 

The other piece of the ring had stayed on Hongjoong’s finger throughout their entire separation. Seonghwa was looking at it, mouth pulling into a grin. Surely he knew how much Hongjoong missed him. 

Hongjoong kept his attention to their shoes for the majority of time while they danced, quietly, not saying anything. He wasn’t the best at slow dancing, but Seonghwa was helping. Like this, they didn’t have to use their words. 

What was there to say? Nothing. 

It was during this that he recognized how exhausted he was. He only had to see Seonghwa to know how fatigued his body was, waiting for his return. He could rest now. 

Giving in, Hongjoong rested his head on Seonghwa’s shoulder, breath relaxing. Gently, Seonghwa dug his nose in Hongjoong’s hair. 

If this wasn’t love, then he didn’t know what else it could’ve been. 

“I don’t mind it when you call me _Seonghwa_.” 

Hongjoong snickered, “Old habits die hard.” 

Seonghwa laced their fingers. “Yeah . . . but we can make it work.” 

_Could we?_

They danced aimlessly, listening to the band play. This was not what he had in mind for a re-encounter. The punch was, though. 

He regarded the pleased look on Seonghwa’s face, like he had a big secret. “What are we even doing, Park?” 

“_Seonghwa_.” He urged, tightening his hold on Hongjoong. “Please, Joong.” 

Okay, that wasn’t a nickname he could get used to. 

“Also, the bet we made,” Seonghwa reminded him. 

That bet flew over his head. It was a wonder the raven even remembered. Hongjoong hadn’t. 

He rolled his eyes at that, “Neither of us won.” 

“But I did get to hear you call me _hyung_.” His partner said smugly. “It would be nice to hear it one more time, if not many times.” 

Hongjoong scowled. When did he . . .? 

_Oh, crap_. 

Heat flooded his face, “That—_that_ was during a very stressful time—” 

Seonghwa held back a laugh. He was enjoying this too much. “Is that so?” He twirled Hongjoong around, waltzing like a professional. “I hope I helped in that stressful time.” 

He could agree on that. He _had_ helped, immensely so, but Hongjoong would never say it. Feeding a raven’s ego wasn’t on his list of things he liked to do. 

Ignoring his words, Hongjoong changed the subject, “I get it. Your title as a raven is well-deserved. So I expect we’ll be going on a mission soon, since you’ve apparently recovered enough. Jongho already took that promotion we wanted, and all because a certain someone got shot. Which means you _owe_ me, Park.” 

The older hummed in response, “Maybe. For now though, things will change.” 

Change? 

“How so?” Hongjoong couldn’t believe they were having idle chit-chat while dancing. Hadn’t they gone through hell and back? Where was the chaos? 

“I’m not a raven, Joong. I spoke with Eden, and I told him about my feelings for you.” 

Bewildered, he paused on the dance floor. 

Had he heard him correctly? 

“What?” He questioned. 

Seonghwa didn’t look like he was bluffing, “I’m not a raven.” 

Hongjoong was speechless, “But your title . . . you’ve worked so hard for it, and . . . you _love_ being a raven—” 

“I know that without my title as a raven, things will be a little more difficult for me.” He said, “But I have a reliable partner who always has my back so—I think I’ll be fine.” And then he continued with, “Plus, I can’t go around flirting with everyone when I have _you_.” He quoted Hongjoong’s exact words. It made his blood boil. 

He remembered when he said them. It was during that time when they fought in the kitchen, before Seonghwa had given him the rings. 

Hongjoong resumed their dancing, taking the lead so that Seonghwa could stop staring at him. He was doing that a lot. He didn’t know why. Maybe there was something on his face. 

“That’s—that isn’t my problem, I guess.” He concluded. 

Why would it matter to him? He wasn’t anything to Seonghwa. 

“It is,” Seonghwa corrected him, “You love me, therefore I’ve become your biggest problem.” 

“Love . . .?” He averted his eyes, but Seonghwa took him by the jaw, gazes meeting. 

“I’m in love with you.” 

Hongjoong’s breath hitched. That was a very raven-thing to say. Though Seonghwa wasn’t a raven anymore. So, what was it? Sincerity? The man _had_ risked bullets for him. And since Seonghwa had quit his career as a raven, then the next important thing in his life was, presumably, Hongjoong. It was sickeningly sweet, in a nice way. 

“I believe you.” He said, taking a minute to digest that. “But we would never work.” 

“How do you know?” 

“Because we’ve been rivals this entire time.” 

The one thing they couldn’t eliminate was the fact that they’d hated each other for a majority of their careers. They couldn’t just brush that off like nothing. 

Seonghwa responded, “We’ll continue being rivals. It’s no big deal.” He was being unusually positive, "I found out, a small time ago that my main goal from now on is to help you, protect you from harm, as best as I can, but ultimately stay as your undefeated rival in our agency—which, I believe is what I've done all along, and so have you." 

Hongjoong scoffed. “Seriously?” 

“Seriously.” 

He examined his partner, feeling his pulse. Seonghwa wasn’t lying. 

“We’re staying as rivals, you’re not a raven, and you want me to tell you that I'm in love with you?” Hongjoong made sure he was repeating after the man, word for word. Where had this enthusiasm come from? His near-death experience?

It wasn’t unwelcomed. He _wanted_ to tell him, to begin a rivalry, but this time as a couple. It was an exciting prospect, though it was risky. Perfect for Park Seonghwa, _not_ for him. 

“Take this risk with me, Joong. Please, be my boyfriend.” Seonghwa raised Hongjoong's hand, kissing it tenderly and twisting the ring on his finger. Those dark eyes hovered over him, seducing him into agreeing. The raven within snuck out. It made Hongjoong nostalgic. 

Even after weeks of telling himself _no_, it seemed to all crumble under the gaze of this ex-raven. The most intolerable, most annoying and risky rival he’d ever known. They were perfect together. 

He was _that_ weak for him, wasn’t he? 

“Admit it.” Seonghwa teased. 

Hongjoong raised a brow, “Admit what?”

It was clearer than anything. No matter how hard he tried to deny it, it was always there, prominent. He could see that, and now Seonghwa could too. 

It was inevitable, and—for once, he didn’t mind it. 

Hongjoong kept his brow raised, still challenging his partner to say more. 

Seonghwa pulled him closer, both arms taking his waist, smiling. 

Oh yeah, he totally knew how much Hongjoong was whipped. 

“Your feelings,” Seonghwa whispered in his ear, tempting Hongjoong to smile too, after such a long, long time. Finally. “They’ve been _compromised_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *the end :) 
> 
>   
*welp i don't know what to say other than thank u so much for reading up to this point everyone!!! :') And thank u for the wonderful feedback you've given me during the time this story was posted!! <3 I never know what to say so i'm sorry... :'D  
*also today is my anniversary with Ateez so I thought it would be a good day to upload for the new year. Happy new year everyone~! I wish you all the best in 2020 :) And i'm sorry it took so long to update :(  
*also i already have a cute jongsang fic planned even tho i wanted this fic to be my last for a long time ughuuhhu but they're so tempting -_- but idk urghhhh
> 
> *also i deleted twitter :( i'm sorry oomfs & moots :( but i am on [tumblr](https://detectivewooyoung.tumblr.com/) :D  
*comments r dearly appreciated <3  
*Spotify [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0NhLPgCS63WwP0msq4UxDr?si=GQvUWcVtQiev3QF4NjtpXQ) for this fic :)


End file.
